


Empty Light's On

by PickleDillo



Series: Nothing But Fumes [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Divergence Eventually, Dragon Age doesn't exist in her world, F/M, FIRST ONE: RUNNING ON EMPTY, Girl doesn't know jack all, Maul Usage, Modern Girl dropped in Thedas, Non-mage, Not a straight up re-write, Out-of-order questing, Part 2, Slow Burn, semi-realistic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-04 02:54:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 87,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12761640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PickleDillo/pseuds/PickleDillo
Summary: Jaime's made it through her first big hurdle, getting allies on her side to close the Breach. What she doesn't know almost certainly kills her, and she's got to contend with imminent death, corpses, angry sovereigns and her own broken heart.Follow Jaime on her next stretch of adventure in her acid-induced dreams.





	1. ACT II: Opposition In All Things

**Author's Note:**

> I AM SCREAMING.
> 
> Guys. I never, ever really thought I would get here, and I'm in tears, WE MADE IT. All thanks to you for your encouragement. This next installment is all for you guys. 
> 
> ONWARDS!

"Was it wise to allow The Order to continue under its own power?" Leliana posed the question to the open room as we stood around the War Table. The back of my eyeballs were burning from snow blindness and my legs had turned into petrified tree-trunks with our hard march back home to Haven. I had not trusted The Order not to run from me, so it had taken near a week to collect a majority of their veterans to have Cullen and the Inquisition forces escort them to Haven.

The absolute statistical  _nightmare_  that resulted from the sudden influx of people into a small, pilgrimage-only area had set more than just my own teeth on edge. Josephine had been seconds from stripping me of rank, title, and my first layer of epidermis had Leliana not predicted my scheming and swooped in with a battle-plan.

Tents had been rearranged, what remained of the Chargers who hadn't gone to the Hinterlands went into overdrive clearing more grounds and trees, Chantry Sisters and Mothers smothered those who came in with wounds or ill-effects, and I was popped like a zit, tossed to the outskirts of Haven in the hopes I didn't get trampled.

As stated before: a fucking nightmare.

"We're not keeping them," I answered her after a beat of silence. The room around me was frosty at best, with Cullen and Josephine less-than-peachy at the idea of Templars running amok, unchecked and unleashed.

"See that we don't." Cullen replied testily, his hand tight on the pommel of his sword. "The Order will be needed once this Breach is closed, to maintain peace and boundaries."

"Between who, precisely?" Leliana murmured with a gentle threat, Cassandra and she pinned Cullen with a hard look. "Because of our little venture to Therinfal Redoubt, the mages have vanished from Redcliffe Village."

"What the fuck is that about, anyway? How do a hundred-odd people just disappear?" I countered with my hands leaning against the table top. "Please, anyone, I will take farfetched theories at this point."

"No one knows." Josephine injected with a click of her teeth, annoyance clear. "Reports have come in that King Alistair had mustered his army enough to drive them out so his people could be at peace when –"

"He arrived to find the village abandoned." Cullen interrupted. Josephine scrunched her nose at him. The last thing I needed was the Heads starting to nip at each other, so I raised my hand to placate Josephine briefly. Cullen caught the gesture and tipped his head apologetically, and continued.

"There hasn't been a single sighting of the mages since you left. The Magister gone with them, as well." Cullen sighed and brought his other hand up to rub at the lower part of his face, scratching at his scruff. "It's all very strange and quite possibly, a good sign for danger. They could be anywhere."

"Doubtful." Cassandra growled, her lips as tight as the arms across her chest. "They must have heard the Herald had gone to retrieve the Templars and fled for fear she would bring them to Redcliffe to subdue them."

"I mean, technically," I interjected with a wiggling finger, "that was exactly the idea, but not like, forcibly. I wasn't going to chain them down or shit like that, I just wanted to make them see reason."

"Dangerous words, Herald, but I understood your point." Leliana replied with a raised brow. "Either way, as it stands, we must now decide what our best course of –" A sharp, small soundwave burst from the center of the table, knocking all of us back to our heels. Smoke whipped up and twirled in the air before vanishing as a form appeared within it.

"The Templars are getting impatient, they don't like to wait." Cole's voice was firm in the surprised silence of the room, his echo gone from my thoughts long after we had left Therinfal Redoubt. I had almost been willing to think I had imagined the sorrowful boy.

"Maker!" Cullen hissed, and the sound of swords singing from their sheaths entered my ears.

"Wait, wait!" I shouted desperately, leaping into a sit on the surface of the tabletop, knocking over figurines as Cassandra and Cullen came around the other side and brandished their swords. Leliana had fallen away to the shadows of a high candelabra with Josephine somehow teleporting herself to the door –  _how the fuck she get over there so fast?_

"I came with you to help. I would have told you before, but you were busy." Cole murmured sadly into my ear, his chin inches from my shoulder, the brim of his hat over my head and tipped to one side. I exhaled and held a hand to my chest, reaching up with my other hand to pat his cheek.

"Th-that's fine, Cole, you just – scared the crap outta us." Another gusty sigh. "Christ, you guys."

"Do not give me that," Cullen chastised with narrowed eyes, "when  _he_  appeared out of thin air!"

"I wasn't air," Cole retorted softly, shaking his head, "I was here. You didn't see me. Most people don't until I let them."

"Call the guards!" Cassandra growled over to Josephine, the golden woman wide eyed with bewilderment. "This creature is not what –"

"A moment please, Cassandra." Leliana interrupted with curiosity lacing her words. She stepped forward from her shadow, the brief glint of her knife flashing as she hid the blade away. "I would like to hear why he came."

"You help people." Cole's attention was honed on me as I turned to look at him, his eyes shimmering between the colors of blue, green, and brown. His hat mussed my hair as he slid past me to stand. "You made them safe when they would have died." Surprisingly, Cole held his hand out to me and without a thought, I took it with my Marked hand.

"I want to do that." He gripped my fingers firmly. "I can help." The minute pain of the Mark, the constant pulse and throb that I had grown accustomed to, faded for a small, heavenly moment. It returned when he let go of my hand and I was back to standing among my council.

"Cole saved my life in Therinfal," I mumbled, amazed by the shift of his eyes, "I couldn't have defeated Envy without him." Gently, I turned my gaze away from Cole to Cassandra, shoulders square and mouth firm.

"But what does he want  _now_?" Cassandra accused, her sword raised slightly.

"Cassandra, I think he really  _is_  trying to help." I reached out and attempted to lower her sword with the palm of my hand. Foolish, perhaps, knowing how sharp those things were. Cassandra knew exactly that and quickly lowered her weapon so I wouldn't slice my hand on the blade.

Cole lowered his head and folded his hands. "I won't be in the way. Tiny, no trouble, no notice taken unless you want them to."

"You're not honestly suggesting we give him run of the camp?" Cullen demanded lowly, coming up to my side. His hand rose to take my elbow, but the Commander thought better of it and lowered his hand into a fist at his side.

"Not… freely, perhaps." Josephine straightened her skirts by the door, voice clear. "But it seems a waste to – hold on!" All five of us blinked at the space that Cole had occupied, now devoid of the boy or his body. A hand rose to my mouth to smother a laugh as Cassandra and Cullen glanced about, swords high.

"Where did he go?" Cassandra fretted.

"He's… probably still here, if his words were anything to go by." I glanced about as well, curious. There was a gentle touch to the palm of my Marked hand and I grinned;  _I was right_.

"In any case." Leliana refocused us. "He seems… attached to the Herald. Hopefully this will lessen any trouble he may cause."

"Hopefully." Cullen grumbled, sheathing his sword with a click. "The Herald is a handful on her own."

I blinked at the Commander. "Was that a pun?"

" _Maker_."

-0-

The noise level within Haven had risen since the arrival of the veteran Templars. With the addition of them to our ranks, it was critical now that the Breach be closed as soon as possible before their fellows arrived. Josephine and Varric could only do so much to maintain the quantity of our supplies for so long. I had been dismissed from the War Room as Leliana and Cullen devised their plan to get me, the Templars, and Bull's Chargers up to the Temple of Sacred Ashes safely.

The conversation didn't need me, as my focus was solely to prepare for the hard march and fight that I had ahead of me to seal the Breach. If it was anything like the other rifts I had sealed in times past, then the biggest of them was going to hurt the most ( _possibly kill me_ ). My first stop was to Solas, I hiked my way through the fresh snow to my companion's cabin. Ducking around the storage and past Adan's cabin, I came upon the sight of my elven friend seemingly waiting for me.

With his arms crossed.

_Fuck, someone told him._

I raised my hands, exasperated. " _Who?_ "

"Your Qunari." Solas answered just as quickly, non-existent brow dug deep over his eyes. "You didn't honestly think he wouldn't tell  _someone_  about your incessant need to be reckless, did you?"

"Who the fuck," I grumbled with slumped shoulders, "that ass is supposed to be on  _my_  side."

"And thank the heavens he is," Solas turned on his heel to reach his door, gesturing for me to walk inside, "otherwise, you'd be dead twice over. What part was misunderstood that you were  _not_  to use the Mark as a weapon, Jaime?"

"I understood, alright." I cranked at him, flopping onto the edge of his bed, my hands falling to my lap as I peered at him. "But you should've  _seen_  this fucker, Solas. It wasn't like he was gonna just stand still and let me have a shot, goddamn whack-a-mole that he was."

Solas very carefully pinched the bridge of his nose. "I understood half of that."

"This creature moved like a centipede, Solas." I clarified, my hands wrung together. "He had, like, six arms and no neck and the body of a left-a-long-time-ago torture victim. He burrowed into the ground and then reached up to drag our asses under it."

"And your best course of action was to stare it in the face and call it, what was it? –  _A hot dog?_ " Solas sighed with deep frustration, but hearing the words 'hot dog' out of his mouth had me cackling despite the severity of the situation.

"This is not a laughing matter, Jaime."

"Dude, the fact that the words  _hot dog_  came outta your mouth is just – priceless." I continued to snicker even as the poor egghead stormed deeper into his cabin and pulled open his drawer within his desk. He reached inside and retrieved a well-worn journal and came back to me, eyes and mouth stern as stone.

He dropped the journal by my hip on the bed. "It will kill you."

_And just like that,_  I thought bitterly.

"What's this?" I took up the journal and paged through the first and second leaflets, skim-reading through Solas' elegant and swift handwriting. Though my reading comprehension had improved significantly, reading quickly was a continuous struggle.

"My studies." He exhaled and took the stool from his fireplace. "While you have been away, I have been making trips up to the Breach to study it."

"I figured." I mumbled, reading through a small section. "Looks like you were… comparing my experiences with the smaller rifts to this big one. What were you looking for?" I glanced up at him, confused. It was unlikely that he could have found much, as my only encounter with the Breach's rift had been brief, and I had passed out soon afterward.

Solas gave me a bored blink, and I caught up.

"Oooh." I answered breathlessly. "Right, I  _did_  pass out. I managed to seal it, but at the cost of fainting."

"It wasn't merely that you fainted, Jaime." Solas began, voice quiet and serious. "When Cassandra and I brought you back to Haven, you were on the brink of death. Adan was absolutely sure you were going to die."

"From fainting?" I squeaked, alarmed at the idea. Passing away in your sleep was something, hopefully, you did when you were old. The journal's pages crinkled in my hands and Solas reached forward to soften my grip, but didn't take the journal from me.

"From  _exhaustion._ " Solas said plainly, gaze nailed to my face. "You fainted from extreme exhaustion. Everything had been taken from you, life and soul. There was not much of your spirit left when we attempted to heal you."

The journal trembled in my hands, tears welling up in my eyes. "Wh… what happened? I m-mean, obviously I woke up – what happened?" Solas sighed and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, a human gesture that I hadn't seen from him before, even in his most exasperated moments. A new low for him, I was sure.

"It is why I had requested that you stop using the Mark. Little by little, you are draining your life away to seal these rifts." He explained, and then reached over and tapped at the journal's edge. "Every time your arm goes numb, you are expending life force to physically close a tangible field of energy. You're repairing these rifts in the Veil, not forcing them shut."

Suddenly, Edward Elric's voice flashed through my head. "... equivalent exchange."

"Yes, precisely." Solas replied in surprise, eyes momentarily wide. "I – well. I suppose something similar to this would exist in your world."

"Not quite," I choked. "How… is there any way to tell how much I've lost already?"

Solas shook his head, solemn. "No, unfortunately. I cannot even judge the extent of how much life-force you use, as the numbing varies from rift to rift, does it not?"

"It does." I answered softly. "The… the time at Fallow Mire was the worst, but there was no rifts there."

"No, but there  _were_  demons." Solas continued studiously. "My theory is that you are expending energy, life energy, to forcibly remove these rips  _and_  demons. Here." He reached for his journal and I held it out to him with a limp hand. He switched from his stool over to the bed, sitting next to me and turning to a page with drawings of Sloths and Terrors, along with weapons for my closest companions.

"When we use our weapons to dispel these spirits, we're not actually hurting them." He pointed to a drawing he had made of Despair, both solid and as if it was fading away. "What we are doing is – with each blow we land, they must in turn use energy, Fade or otherwise, to remain corporal."

"They only have so much, here in this reality." I breathed weakly, shaking at the similarity Solas was attempting to explain.

"Exactly." Solas nodded, a small, terse smile on his face. "Spirits, even demons, don't actually  _die_ , as we do. They simply disperse and reform back in the Fade, as that is where their energy is strongest."

"Conservation of mass." I murmured thoughtfully, looking down at the page. Solas frowned at me, his head tilted slightly with a twitch of his ears, curiosity piqued for a second.

"If you would explain, please." Solas asked gently. "Context suggests much, but clarification would be appreciated."

"The law of conservation of mass, it's…" I struggled, trying to recall my college science classes. "Uh, simply put; mass is constant despite the forms it changes into." He blinked at me, expecting me to continue, and so I struggled to continue. "So, basically, mass or matter cannot be created or destroyed, it just… is. It exists always in the same quantity, but can be in different forms… I think?"

"Interesting." Solas stood and moved over to his desk with his journal in hand, taking a quick seat. He pulled his inkwell and quill close, his hand sharp as he jotted down more notes on the next blank page. I remained on the edge of his bed, my hands empty and fingers touching, resting in my lap.

"... you really think this is going to kill me?" I asked into the silence, quiet and trembling.

The scratch of Solas' quill paused. "In theory? … Yes. It should kill you. But with the Templars to help…"

"Would it kill them?" I immediately asked, terrified at the thought. After I had promised them sanctuary from their most recent hell, this tasted viciously of betrayal. My heart raced in my chest, "If it's gonna just exchange their lives for mine, then we can j-just fucking forget it!"

"Jaime," Solas attempted to assuage me, "if we can seal the Breach this way –"

"Don't!" I nearly shouted. "D-don't – don't give me that  _it's good math_  bullshit!" My fingers laced together and gripped my palms tight against their opposite, my wrists trembling from the effort to keep the rest of my body from shaking. I hunched over my hands slightly, my eyes shut but swelling as I fought back tears. I couldn't do that to them, I couldn't lead them to death. If expending the whole of my energy to seal the Breach and they could go home...

Solas stood from his desk and came toward me, his hand resting on my head. "... sometimes I forget how young you are."

"I'm almost thirty," I spat weakly.

"Almost is not quite thirty." He replied with a small, sad chuckle. "Here, none of that. Chin up – where's your handkerchief?"

"Why is it mine?" I sniffed wetly, releasing my hands and using the back of my wrist of one to swipe at my snotty nose. "Isn't it yours?"

"Yes, well." He found it at the bottom drawer of his nightstand and gave it to me. I took it and wiped at my face. "Considering that you've contaminated it thoroughly, I consider it yours."

"You're sweet," I joked bitterly. My eyes were cleared of their preemptive tears. "A jackass, but sweet." A long silence dragged between us. Solas left me to my clean up, the previous conversation dead in the air. He placed more logs into his fireplace and shifted the old ones around. I folded up my handkerchief and placed it away at the bottom of his drawer.  _Take that, you nerd_.

For the moment, I was appeased.

"Have you met Cole yet?" I asked into the empty air, grasping at something that wasn't talk of my damnation into hell. Solas turned to me from his fireplace and opened his mouth to speak before he snapped it shut, eyes wide.

I chuckled, the tingle in my palm lessening. "Cole, you can't keep doing that, buddy."

"But you asked if he met me yet," Cole replied, utterly confused. His hat tilted and he glanced between us, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "I heard it, in your head, you wanted him to meet me. I was already here."

"How… extraordinary." Solas breathed, standing from his haunches and stepping toward us slowly, as if he would spook Cole with any other faster movement. "You're… a corporeal spirit? How?"

"I am because I wanted to be." Cole replied simply, as if the knowledge of manifestation was common. "I didn't want to be what I was, so I decided to be what I am."

"Indeed." Solas was within arms' reach of us now, his focus intent on Cole. "And you named yourself Cole?" Cole hesitated, shifting his weight on his heels from one side to another, contemplating his answer.

"Yes." He finally said. "And no. I am Cole, because I was already Cole when I became who I am." Solas glanced at me in the hopes of some sort of explanation. Flippantly, I shrugged with upturned hands.  _Who knows_  was all I could convey, because rightly, I had as much of a shot understanding Cole as I did Sera.

Who I hadn't spoken to in  _weeks_. Fuck.

"So how about this." I stood with a clap of my hands on my knees. "You two have a nice chat, I gotta go make the rounds if I'm going to die."

"You won't die." Cole replied, dauntless. "You're not meant to die."

"I… have no idea how to take that." I muttered, stepping through Solas' door with a sure-foot forward. The door closed behind me and the pulse in my hand was back. The palm was brought up closer in my vision; Cole was very skilled in hiding from the Mark, or manipulating it. Perhaps that was the reason he was so assured of my safety.

I wish I had his confidence.

I walked down toward the small tavern in Haven, but upon seeing the Templars crowding around the door, singing along to whatever it was that Maryden was playing, I decided otherwise. It was a lame excuse, but going in puffy-eyed into a crowded and loud tavern just didn't sound like fun. It wasn't like the bars back home, dim lighting would not save me here.

Varric was missing from his place by his fire and tent. Poking my nose around, one of the runners told me he had made his way up to the Chantry, more than likely to speak with Josephine and discuss the running of supplies. We were dangerously low and our ability to feed both soldiers and civilians was becoming precarious.

I moved on toward the front gate and took a few nervous paces before deciding to walk through. Bull had wanted to talk, wanted the story of what happened with the Envy demon, but now in the face of it, I was hilariously apprehensive. Qunari liked demons all the less than magic, and as I had contended with one toe-to-toe, there was no telling what he would think of me now.

Would he think I was possessed? Would he think, even after defeating the demon, that something remained? Christ, there was no knowing with Bull, and considering that I had already angered him with my antics during battle, it was a toss-up as to what kind of welcome I was expecting once I reached his tent. It was a minute more or so before some of the merchants were giving me concerned side-eyes and I turned to make my way down toward the tent.

Krem wasn't at his usual post, away perhaps with the rest of the Chargers and finishing with their own preparations (and rehoming, since the veterans were becoming demanding children). Bull stood, as always, at the mouth of his tent and his gaze leveled on me as I approached. His head tilted for a moment before he sighed and ducked inside of his tent, holding the flap open for me.

_Shiiiiit. I'm in so much trouble._

I walked in past his arm and spooked to one side as he let if fall behind us. A thick swallow was forced down my throat and I busied myself with glancing around the small space. The tent was tall enough to allow Bull enough room with a small hunch to his back, his horns cleared of snagging. A tiny table at one end, and I noticed there was no cot, only a straw-and-cotton bedroll on the ground.

Viciously, my mind brought up the giggling words of the Chantry sister and I rattled my brain angrily before taking a seat on a small crate closest to the tent flap. Bull dropped himself onto the bedroll, careful of his ankle, and folded his legs. He looked up at me with a raised eyebrow and I found myself inexplicably frozen.

"Everything alright up in that head of yours?" Bull asked neutrally. I could hear his attempt at a casual start to the conversation, but I had a hand at being paranoid over how people treated me. The classic Hot-Potato method of passing around the anxious person was not unknown to me.

"Yeah, we're solid." I said cryptically. There was a spasm on his right eye and I chuckled. " _I_  am, Bull, yeah. Chill, dude."

His expression pinched at my choice of words. "So, you promised me a story."

"Usually that kind of line is reserved for bedtime." I replied reflexively, my deflecting mechanism kicking in, but it backfired on me spectacularly as both of his brows rose higher on his forehead. I pointed a warning finger at him, "Ack, no, don't go there. That's not what I meant."

"Right," he chuckled, his shoulders relaxing. "Let's try this again: what happened back there, boss?"

"Where do I fucking start?" I raised my hands and let them drop to my knees, palms up. "Do we start where I started hearing a voice in my head, or do we start where I ended up stuck in my own mind or – you tell me, big guy."

"Let's start with the voice." Bull acquiesced with a nod of his head. "When I got to you, you were shaking like a leaf. Was it just one voice?"

"One voice was enough, dude, trust me." I complained, rubbing my thumb into the glowing spark of my palm. "I swear, it sounded like he was coming over a loudspeaker – a device that amplifies voices, sorry – and it just… hurt."

"I noticed." He replied carefully. "You dropped like a dead duck, and that scream – sounded like someone somehow managed to bring you down."

A weak laugh came up, "What, worried for me?"

"Shouldn't I be?" He fired back. That shut me right up and sheepishly, I ducked my gaze back down to my hand, excusing my silence as I worried over the Mark with my thumb.  _Chill, Jaime, he doesn't mean anything by it_. He sighed heavily and leaned onto an upturned arm, chin in his hand and elbow on his knee.

"If you want me to keep trusting you, you need to talk to me." Bull prodded lightly. "Because from my end, all I saw was you go from Jaime into monster in the blink of an eye."

I shuddered at the imagery. "I wasn't possessed, if that's what you're asking."

"You almost were." He retorted quietly.

"Almost isn't the same as actual." I chuckled again, paraphrasing Solas' earlier words. My head feel back and I closed my eyes, feeling the burn come up again behind my eyelids. With raised hands, I rubbed at my sockets and sighed, doing anything I could to buy myself time to explain.

To think up an explanation, at least.

"Envy demon, we understand the general concept, yes?" I asked, bringing my head back down to him slowly. He nodded, waving at me with his free hand to continue. "Right, so. It wanted to be me, and I'm pretty sure it almost succeeded, had I not had Cole or my piss-poor attitude."

"I'm going to be honest," Bull interrupted gently, "that – thing, boy? – worries the crap out of me."

"Spirit," I corrected absently, "and join the club, he worries everyone else but Solas. And me."

"He's not much different than the Envy demon, Boss." Bull rolled his wrist, waving his hand to enunciate his wording. "Demon, spirit – not living, as far as anyone knows. And he can get inside your head, he's proven that already."

"Well, yeah, but he didn't muck with anything in there." I pouted, offended on Cole's behalf. Granted, I had known Cole for less than a month, but one didn't go through a personal hell with someone and not come out attached at the hip because of it. Cole was – is, special. He was to me, to be honest.

"How could you know? Demons are good at twisting your thoughts to make you want things you've never wanted before." Bull was damningly good at playing the Devil's Advocate and though usually I admire the play on it, it was starting to itch in this conversation.

I exhaled, settling my nerves. "I know, because it didn't – neither he nor the Envy demon could see my memories before Thedas." My words brought him to a full stop, his green-blue eye narrowing at me, his shoulders stiffening again.

"... none of them?"

"None," I shook my head, gently slipping from the crate down to the floor, my leg stretched out, the sole of my boot nearly to his bent knee. "Envy was pulling memories from, like – the first day, you know? When Cassandra had me in shackles and all that, but… he wasn't using anything else."

"One would think; if he wanted to  _be_  you, he'd be better prepared by using earlier memories." Bull speculated, running his thumb over his cheek thoughtfully. "Maybe he decided on just using your memories from when you became the Herald?"

"Then he's a shitty imposter." I quipped. "People change over time, yeah, but who we are – our core responses – are all reactions that stem from our earliest experiences, and those are hard to change."

"True, I'm not going to argue that with you." Bull waved his hand to pacify me. "All I'm saying is: consider it. Anything that gets into your head that isn't  _yours_  is dangerous."

"Like Re-educators?" I blurted, waspish that he was taking swipes at Cole. A wince hit my face the second those words flew out of my mouth because I  _knew_ better than to throw shade like that. Bull paused and gave me one solid blink before sighing and nodding.

"Right." He groused. "Like them – so, after that?" I hesitated, worried now at the figurative eggshells that now lay before me. Gently, I reached for my wrist and rolled it in my grip, popping the joint softly.

"It kept talking to me, trying to distract me, I guess." I shrugged a shoulder. "All the way up to the entrance. There, when I got in reach – the Lord Seeker, Envy, he grabbed me and poof, I had an out-of-body experience."

Bull tilted his head. "What do you mean? You were still there."

"Oh, sure,  _physically_." I noted, nodding my head with a sarcastic tint to my words. "But mentally? I checked right out and was transported who the fuck knows where. It was smoky and misty and green, like a badly colored dungeon." Bull leveled me with a serious look, but kept his mouth tightly shut. Worried, but not overly so to stop my explanation, I continued, but quiet and much more aware of the words that flew out of my mouth.

"It showed me visions, of Cullen, Josephine – Leliana, even. Tried to… get me to react to situations, things I could hear in the memories. It was inventing things, trying to spook me, I think." I rubbed at my wrist again and released it once the skin went red, my gaze flickered between my lap and Bull's face, nervousness and anxiety rippled through me.

"It's a classic tactic." Bull murmured quietly, chin back in his hand. "It's one of the ways you can root out spies, putting them in stressful situations makes their instinct take over. Civilians don't know how to dodge a knife."

I winced. "Lovely."

"Honest." Bull countered.

"Anyway," I exhaled, my palms together in my lap, the toes of my boot stretching slightly to see if I could touch his knee. "It was… exhausting. It kept trying to draw me into answering him, gettin' a rise out of me, but… like I said, my piss-poor attitude –"

"The demon wasn't expecting you to deflect so much. Your anxiety got to you, did it?" Bull graced me with a tiny, amused smirk. It did all the wrong things, my face heated up like a red balloon, my ears felt like they were going to curl into themselves and I was painfully aware of how small this fucking tent was, Jesus H. Christ.

"Hey, we don't talk about it like it's a real thing, I told you." My toes  _could_  reach his knee, and I tapped it to make my point. "But… yeah. And with Cole, he helped me realize where I was, in my own head, and there's no greater maze than my thoughts."

"That's for sure." Bull teased gently, his smirk widening slightly.

The flush reached the end of my neck. "B-but, after that, it was… easier. Not easier, just less painful. Still exhausting, though. Demons and people spawning in my thoughts, trying to frighten me."

"How did you get out?" Bull ventured. "Because, like I said, you came out spitting-mad."

"Because I  _was_  mad. I was pissed from here to high heaven." I quipped, mouth at a slant. "I had just wasted – what felt like to me – a lot of fucking time trying to chase his ass down. When I finally got to him –"

"Wait," Bull faltered, "you  _what?_  You chased it? The demon?"

I blinked, my hands bouncing once in my lap. "Well. Yes? Duh, what the fuck else was I supposed to do?" The  _look_  Bull had given me just then, so reminiscent of a cat's prowling stare that I hesitated with continuing. Had I said something wrong? Weird? What did I miss? Surely that alone wasn't enough of a red flag?

"What?" I demanded, shoulders hunched. Bull brought his hand up to his eyes and rubbed a hard knuckle into his good eye, wincing hard and sighing heavily, as if attempting to expel his own lungs from his body. He shook his head with a sharp inhale.

"Nothing, continue. You caught it, then? That's why you came back?" Bull concluded, his eye sharp on my face. Personally, this felt more like an interrogation than a conversation, but I supposed that made sense. He was looking to confirm that I wasn't possessed, only insane.

"Not necessarily." I muttered, my eyebrows dancing on my forehead. "It wanted to try again, wanted to put me through more pain to get the best of me. I wasn't going to have that shit, so I shanked him." Bull shook his head again and muttered something under his breath, possibly in Qunlat because even at our proximity to each other, I couldn't understand it.

"And  _that_  brought you back?" Bull replied.

"Yeah." I murmured with a shrug, my boot-toe at his knee again. "Envy had already stretched itself thin trying to trap me, it didn't have anything else once I got a hold of him." A few heartbeats passed between us, a gentle silence that breathed easily and for the time, I felt relieved.

And then I remembered he snitched on me. I nudged his knee hard, pouting.

"Asshole, you told Solas about the arm thing again." There was no heat to my anger. I understood why he had done it, but that he had gone around my back to do it, or didn't wait for me to tell Solas first hurt more than I thought it would.

"I wasn't sure you were going to tell him." Bull confirmed my suspicions. "You usually don't. I – look. I'm not going to play the Blackwall card on you, but… I understand his concern. You're a bit…"

"Reckless?" I suggested. He graced me with a tired sigh. I chuckled, "Yeah, okay… I can see it, too. I'm sorry."

"No need to tell me you're sorry." Bull assured me, rubbing at his ear and base of his horn. "You didn't hurt me. I just want to make sure you're thinking these things through, Boss. We don't know what the consequences are."

I shuddered, my innards trembling as I realized Solas hadn't told him what I recently learned; my life being drained away by the Mark. Seconds dashed by as I wrestled with what to tell him, if I were to tell him anything. Realization struck hard; I wouldn't be able to share this with Blackwall, or Vivienne, or even Varric. The Hydra Heads? Forget it. Bull, though, was someone I wanted to tell, desperately.

Instead, I smiled, nodding my head. "I got ya, we'll just have to be careful from now on."


	2. ACT II: They Who Stand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime finally faces the end-goal. 
> 
> The first one, unbeknownst to her.

"Ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, Cassandra."

Ten months. Ten solid, anxiety-ridden, hair-pulling, vomit-producing months, and here we were, at the mouth of what remained from the crumbling Temple of Sacred Ashes.

I was fucking shaking in my boots. Cassandra stood behind me as she commanded our Templars. Shouted orders and last second changes flew behind me as our company hurried to finish their preparations. This was going to be it, we had made our last march up to the Temple and all that was left was to close the Breach. The mouth of the rift hovered above the ground and over a broken pillar just before us, the demolished temple rang hollow with the thundering footfalls of the soldiers and Templars as they hastily moved to surround the rip and prepare for our attempt.

The Breach hung above the rift, high in the sky and swirling with its pulsing greenish, brackish light. Clouds circled the pillar of light that connected the rift to its breach far above, they faded as they drew closer to the ground, dispersing in the faint breeze that had followed us up from Haven. Solas appeared just beyond the peripheral of my vision, his nose and forehead the only things I could truly see. My shaking grew harder under my armor, my maul rattled a bit in its holster.

"Jaime?" Solas called to me, soft and curious.

"Cold," I dismissed him, "that's all."

Lies, honestly. Much more than cold riddled me, but there was no sense in having the same discussion over and over again. With a sidestep, Solas' profile entered my vision and he sighed, his gaze drawn up like mine to the Breach and its rift. More Templars filed in behind us, Cassandra at the head. My eyes closed and a strange sensation of burning could be felt behind my eyelids. Mouth dry as a desert and nose about to break off my face from the bitter wind, I turned to Cassandra, shoulders back and chin level.

"Templars!" I hollered to them, my voice echoing through the ruins. Above my level were the glinting, armored shadows of Bull's Chargers Mercenary Company, the last line of defense should this whole thing go to shit. They stood ready with their barrels of pitch and torches, prepared to rain fire if the sealing of the rift went foul.

"This ends today!" I continued, my eyes cast down to the helmets that turned toward me. "Let the nightmare fall back from Thedas with us!" Cheers and roars thundered with swords battered against their shields. The muscles of my throat tightened around my voice-box. Cassandra's words hung heavy from my mouth, but she had been right: it was exactly what needed to be said.

I saluted them with my fist across my chest and they answered with a solid ring of their swords clanking against their shields again. My teeth were hurting, my ears were ringing something awfully and it was all I had in me not to buckle over my knees as I walked the path down toward the center of the Temple, closer to the rift. Solas and Cassandra followed me, my other companions left behind in the safety of Haven.

_I hope this works._

Templars filed around me as planned, their power honed and focused onto a single spot. Hopefully Solas' theory proved only partially true, that with their strength it would be enough to repair the rift and close the Breach without actually having anyone die on me. Without myself dying in the process, if it could be helped, but Solas and I had kept that dark secret between us. There were too many variables between the leaders of the Inquisition and my own companions to think that there would be an easy, clear-cut decision on whether I was to be sacrificed over the Templars.

Guilt gnawed at my stomach, knowing that I walked away from my people without telling them the whole truth, that I could in all actuality die and they would not understand why I had. My eyes found the shrouded faces of the Templars as I walked past them, each one solid and real, their expressions held tight in the face of the nightmare before us. I wonder if Cullen had told them what to expect? What  _could_ they expect in this unknown?

Finally, my trek brought me to the floor of the Temple, my Mark pulsed in time with the Breach and I realized it always had. It wasn't mimicking the beat of my heart, it only seemed to, but it had really been keeping time with its creator. A shiver ran down through my legs at the thought, but I pushed forward and stood before the pillar, staring up into the sky.

Hands touched either side of my shoulder blades and with a glance over, Solas and Cassandra came into sight. They both nodded, with Cassandra squeezing my shoulder in reassurance. My jaw trembled, but I blinked to hold back tears. Cassandra would never realize what had happened, if I died here. She wouldn't know and suddenly I feared the guilt she would burden herself with, if it happened. I glanced back to Solas, his own gaze on Cassandra until he felt my own and met my eyes.

He nodded, as if he understood my silent plea.

I walked forward, closer, as they both turned to the Templars.

"Templars!" Cassandra roared, her voice carrying like rolling thunder.

"Focus past the Herald!" Solas followed her, bellowing into her storm. "Let her will draw from you!"

That was my cue. With a hard swallow, I took another step forward and I must have crossed some sort of barrier because the Mark flared to life in a way it hadn't before. The light sparked and glowed, brightening like a comet from the sky, glistening and glinting through my fingers without warning. A hard, trembling pulse quaked up from my palm into my arm, hammering into my shoulder joint and it pushed me back on a heel.

Grunting, I gritted my teeth and raised my palm to the sky, a screeching howl reached my ears, screams and sobbing voices rolled over each other, fighting for space in my head. My eyes shut and I forced another foot forward, the tether of the Fade formed between my palm and the rift, but unlike the tug-of-war I was accustomed to, this one was pushing.

My feet were sinking into the dirt and broken gravel ground of the Temple. The roars of the Templars were warring with the voices in my head, sweat started to form and drip along my brow and neck. My other hand reached up and gripped my elbow, keeping my other arm steady and straight as I fought my way forward. Heat shot through me next, a wire-hot vindictiveness slithered through my bones and lit my marrow alight with a blaze.

I must have been screaming, there's no way I wasn't, but I couldn't hear a damn thing over the other noises around me, or within my own mind. Visions flashed behind my eyes, people and faces I didn't recognize, towering, monstrous figures that burst like sparklers and fireworks before reforming into something else, something bigger, something darker, and filled my mind with a fog. There was another force pushing, it soared behind me, cascading through my back in waves and briefly my mind supplied:  _Templars_.

It made it easier to push against the rift as it fought me for dominance. Each breath was filtered through sandpaper as I continued my desperate push, my eyes were flooded with tears and every blink only brought more. Vision gone, hearing obscured, the only thing I could trust was the next step that I took. Someone or something hollered tremendously from within the rift, a crashing tsunami of hatred, blackened and burnt by time, festered by rage and tasting of salt and copper shot through my throat and poisoned my body.

The tether between me and the rift coiled for no more than a heartbeat before it gave a blood curdling, grating scream and popped, its explosion silent at first before the blast caught me under my diaphragm and rocketed me back off my feet, the tendons and ligaments in my arm felt as if they had been snapped clear off the bone. A scream ripped up through my sandpaper lined throat and I hit the ground with a dead slap, my vision burnt white and then reddened before going black.

I came to consciousness slowly, like waking up from drug-induced slumber, unaware of the passage of time or where my body was in the physical realm. Above me, the sky was darkened by large, rolling rain clouds, a gentle thunder echoing overhead, but the green tint of the Fade was absent. Seconds after, Cassandra's face swam into sight and she knelt next to me, a hand on my shoulder.

"Jaime," she breathed, amazed (to find me alive, no doubt), "you did it."

Immediately, tears sprang to my eyes and without a single thought, I reached up and wrapped my weakened arm around her, my left arm dead to the world, but I couldn't bring myself to care. The woman spared not a moment and pulled me up into her arms, sitting me up against her chest, and with the clank of our armors pressed together, I began to sob.

"You did it," she continued to murmur, comforting me with awkward pats on my back, our armor in the way of her affections. "Breathe, girl. We made it, it's over." It only made me cry harder, wracking, uncontrollable sobs escaped me, my diaphragm spasmed under my ribs to the point of pain and suffocation. Solas came up around behind Cassandra and stood, leaning on his staff, his head bright with sweat.

It was a few minutes more before I could breathe normally, my face swollen and rough from tears. My left arm was useless, but with Solas' help, we slung it up against my chest with a strap of leather and cloth from a Templar. Slowly, we made our way back toward the entrance, the Templars collecting themselves and their scattered bits of armor and weapons. Most, if not all, looked dazed and utterly confused, but with a single look up into the sky, relief flooded them, a few with tears of their own hidden under their helmets.

More silent tears slipped down my face; I couldn't wipe them away as one arm was in a sling and the other was wrapped around Cassandra's neck as she assisted me with walking. A few of the more coherent veteran Templars saluted me with weak and wobbling fists as I walked past them, and all I could offer was a nod:  _we did it_ , we shared the silence together.

My throat choked on whatever emotion gripped me, I couldn't tell what it was. Was it relief? Joy? Fear over the lost limb? Grief? I wouldn't necessarily say I could jump for joy at the moment, but the sheer and utter emptiness I felt at having completed my task was overwhelming.

_I didn't die. I'm still here._

I wasn't looking at the edge of a never ending chasm anymore, I was looking at the dive into an ocean, and at least with that I knew I could swim. My fingers curled tightly into Cassandra's pauldron and the arm she had around my waist held me firmer. We shared a glance and Cassandra leaned her head enough to press our temples together. My heart felt it would burst, because what she couldn't say in words I could feel through her actions.

_Thank you._

Damnit, was I going to cry the whole way back to Haven? A hard sniff rattled through my nose and I ducked my head to keep my walking steady as I stared at the ground. The end of our walk came into view, Templars lined the exit on either side, their armor gleaming and dented in some places, but whole. I hadn't seen any of them lying on the ground, so I prayed that meant they all survived.

" _They did_." Cole's voice echoed through my head. " _There was enough to carry you without letting the Fade take you, they saved you, brought you back, let you stand with their strength_." I closed my eyes, relief bubbling in my stomach at the familiar voice and I exhaled shakily, tentatively reaching my thoughts out to Cole.

_I thought I told you to stay in Haven?_

" _I am here, and there. You were scared, you didn't want to be alone. I know that feeling, being with people but still alone._ " There was a pause, but since my arm was numb, I couldn't tell if he was close by or not. " _I wanted to help. I can help, because I am here with you_."

_Oh, Cole._

"Jaime?" Cassandra's voice broke through my silent conversation and I focused back into reality. With a swallow, I found myself surrounded by my companions and Bull's Chargers, their lieutenant and commander staring at me with unreadable expressions. Cassandra gently unhooked my arm from around her neck and held me steady.

I hadn't realized how weak I felt, my knees buckled under me and it was a race as both Krem and Bull jerked forward to catch me. Krem managed to get to me first, taking me gently from Cassandra's hold and holding me by my shoulders before Bull swept in and picked me up like a child. There was no energy left in me to feel embarrassed or flustered. My head dropped to his clavicle with my eyes shutting heavily.

"Exhaustion, much as before." Solas muttered somewhere behind me, off to Bull's right side. "See that she gets to Haven quickly, have Adan attend to her –"

"I'll have Stitches look her over." Bull countered with a low rumble, or maybe that was just my hearing loss. There was a shuffle of footsteps and Bull adjusted me against his chest, his arm under my legs being careful as he placed his hand on my hip.

"We'll take good care of her," Krem added softly, closer to the left side of Bull, "would you like some of the men to stay here and help with whatever injuries you may have?"

"No." Cassandra injected firmly. "Take the Chargers with you, the Templars have proven their worth and trustworthiness."

"... agreed," Solas sighed, his tone reluctant, "for now, we are safe."

"There's still a mark on her hand." Bull seemed to growl, his arm shifting under my back, cradling me upward a bit. I attempted to blink to clear my vision, but it swirled a bit like mixed, wet paint and deciding that I didn't want to throw up on my crush like some elementary school kid, I kept my eyes closed and continued to listen.

"I shall see to that issue when we return.  _For now_ , she is to be taken back to safety. Keep watch on her for any irregularities." Solas commanded. That must have been the last of his patience because footsteps started and faded away. A cloak or something similar was placed over me, my lame left arm pushed closer to my chest to keep it from falling.

My eyelids felt like anchors. "Cass?"

"I am here, Jaime." Cassandra's armored hand rested on my forearm briefly. "Iron Bull and Lieutenant Cremisius are returning you to Haven."

"... 'kay." I wanted to ask so much more, but my throat refused to work, dry and cracked and dusty that it was. I knew this bit of information already, I wanted to know what had happened with the rift, but I couldn't formulate my thoughts to articulate them with my mouth.  _Fucking hell, I sound drugged._ Cassandra must have signaled to my caretakers, because my body bobbed as Bull began to move.

My head rested back between his clavicle and shoulder joint. I tested my fingers of my left hand and found that I couldn't feel them at all. Such a result should have concerned me, but shock must have still been setting in, because the fact of the matter was: I wasn't dead, so a dead  _arm_  was a good trade off.

Amputation, though. I'm sure that would worry me later.

It was unclear to me how long it took us to make the march back to Haven, but before long, I was being passed around, more voices could be heard, distinctly Blackwall's and Varric's, but they faded not long after and I found myself in my cabin, the familiar smells of polishing grease and leather oil found my nose and relaxed me, at peace now that I was home.

…  _home._

-0-

When I awoke, it was morning. Whether it was the next morning or some days after was uncertain. Crust had caked my eyes shut and my hand fumbled out for something to wipe my eyes clear. I almost leapt from my skin as another hand found mine, and a second scare-jump did have me smacking against the wall on the other side of my bed as I realized the hand I was using was the left one.

"You are certainly far more animated than I would have suspected." Solas' voice tingled against my ears, my hearing back to normal. A few hard blinks cleared my eyes of their snot, but not my vision. Odd shapes took form and I could spy that my elven friend sat in my chair facing my fireplace, his legs crossed at the knee and his hands resting in his lap, as prim and proper as you please.

Frowning, I glanced at my hand and found that the one I held was Cole's. I looked up, my shoulders twitching with surprise upon noticing his hat was missing.  _Christ, rude. Too many things happening altogether._  My fingers curled in his palm, his other hand brought up a damp hand towel and he held it up for me. Reluctantly, and with much confusion, I took it.

"Where…? No, I'm – home. What happened?" Both my hands retreated once I took the hand towel wiped my face from my forehead down. The cloth was ice cold and woke me up fast, my vision clearing as my skin pricked with the sensation.

"You fainted, yet again." Solas clarified, sarcastic. "It's been two days. One day less than before, much to our relief."

"There was some healing we needed to do," Cole murmured to me, his hands behind his back, head tilted, "your arm was almost lost, but I told you I can help, so I did, and gave you back your arm."

"Wait, what?" I muttered, lost, wincing up at Cole from the sunlight of my window. "I do distinctly remember losing  _sensation_  in my arm, but not the whole thing."

"It's the Mark." Solas sighed quietly, glancing at Cole for a moment. "Cole had informed me of his assistance at Therinfal, replacing the energy you expended with his own." Startled, my gaze shot to Cole and he blinked at me, the situation a natural thing for him. I shook my head, my attention flickering back to Solas.

"Wait, no, that's bad." I croaked. "Cole's a spirit, if he uses that energy –"

"Theoretically, yes, he would be under the same assumptions as other spirits, but Cole is… unique." Solas seemed displeased with his own answer, his eyes narrowed at the young man in question, but Cole took no notice of the attention.

"I'm not fully  _human_ , I don't hurt as hurt happens, but I can mend hurts that are not mine." Cole attempted to explain, his kaleidoscope eyes twitched in their sockets, dashing over my face. "If we lost  _all_  of you, I couldn't bring that back, but small parts of you I can, the Mark makes it easy."

"In essence, your Mark not only connects you to the Fade, but also to any amicable spirits, such as Cole." Solas nodded his head to the boy, his hand refolding on his lap. "An interesting tidbit of information no one deemed important to tell me."

That was directed at me, surely.

"I hadn't thought about it," I answered him quietly, "I hadn't known what Cole was doing, only that he kept the numbness at bay for a little while."

"Bending, but not broken, tired and twisted, leashed together and sapping," Cole muttered quickly, his hands coming up to lace together in front of his chest, almost resting on his stomach, "Thieving, taking, quaking, putting back what's stolen, fixing what's broken, I've never – got to heal someone before. It's nice." There was a pregnant pause, all three of us unsure of what settled between us. In the end, I reached up with my Marked hand and gently placed it on Cole's closest elbow.

"It's nice to be cared for, Cole." I thanked him with a soft smile, "I'm glad you were here for me."

The smallest, sweetest smile touched his lips, and then he vanished.

Solas continued on as if Cole had never been in the room, "The man from Iron Bull's company, Stitches, kept you stable for most of the first night. You caught a high fever after returning to Haven."

"Hopefully insanity doesn't set in from the damage," I joked, testing my left arm with a roll of my wrist and then my shoulder. I held the joint to add pressure, but also for assurance that I actually did have the arm attached and it wasn't fake. Magic could do almost anything, if the rumors were true.

"Indeed," Solas deadpanned, "Such as it is, the fever broke and you continued to sleep. I must inform you, the company you keep is – disquieted."

"Is it because of this?" I raised my left hand, the Mark's small chasm in my palm still present, but faded like a dying glow stick. Solas nodded his head and I sighed, my hand falling to the bed as I sat up. "Why… do I still have it? I thought… I don't know, that it would disappear with the Breach?"

"I had my speculations it would, but now…" Solas shook his head and turned toward the fire, his expression hard over his mouth. "Now I feel as if most of my theories are lost in the wind. What I thought it once was is incorrect and I fear what it could be, now."

"What is it, Solas?" I asked tentatively, concerned at the cryptic nature of his response. He wasn't ever once to give a full straight answer, but even this was on the far side of vague, even for him. A silence surrounded him, seeming to void the noise that existed in his personal space and he stood, his jaw tight under his skin.

"When I know, I shall inform you. Take your rest, Jaime, we have a long night of celebration to attend tonight." With that, my elven friend gracefully exited my cabin, leaving me befuddled.


	3. ACT II: Invincible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime's comes face to face with painfully real truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! On to chapter 3! I'm so excited to be here, this is what we were working toward and we're getting to my favorite part of the game. Thank you all again who commented and left kudos, your enjoyment and enthusiasm for Jaime's growth makes this all worth-while!

Preparations for a celebration were well underway long before I had awoken. Fires were lit up in their caskets and holders, dotting along Haven from the Chantry to the front gate. Soldiers were laughing, running up and down the pathways like children, dedicating their time to setting up tables and seats, preparing food and barrels of drink.  _I wonder what would have happened had I died?_

I immediately put a stop to those thoughts.

I had bought myself some time with bathing in the frigid waters of the tub left in my cabin, combing my hair out and braiding it off to one side, the wild parts left to their own devices. I had donned simple clothes, a tunic (as always) with my cloak, and sturdy pants to fight the cold. My body wasn't completely up to snuff, there was still some stiffness in my joints and a creak in my back, but I would manage.

Varric and Blackwall were up by the dwarf's tent and when I arrived in their line of sight, Varric beamed me with a wide, toothy grin. Blackwall's shoulders slumped once his gaze found mine, giving me a once over to make sure I was alive. My feet hurried me to Varric and I almost skidded on my knees as I dropped down to hug him. His arms flew around me tight, crushing me to his chest.

"Atta girl!" Varric cheered, pulling back and holding my face in both his hands, grin bright, "Knew you'd make it!"

"Could'a shared that with me before I left, I almost shit my pants, guy." I weakly joked, cheeks puffed in his hands. He laughed at me, patting my face like a child and released me. Blackwall held a hand for me and I took it, standing on wobbly knees.

He hesitated for a moment and I caught the tight expression over his nose. A chuckle came up from me and I held my arms open to him. There was only a moment's hesitation more before he brought me into his arms and held me nearly as tight as Varric did, his exhale hard against my ear.

"Had us scared for a right moment, there." He murmured against my head. "When they walked in with you looking like a corpse, I thought for sure…"

I pulled away, grinning at him. "Looked pretty damn good for dead, didn't I?" He blinked at me, and then gave me the heaviest, longest eye roll he could, sighing at the end. Varric and I cracked into laughter, with tears coming to my eyes briefly, an insane sort of relief gurgling at the bottom of my throat.

_I really did it, didn't I? We made it._

"I'm just – glad to see you're alive, and well." Blackwall nodded to me, releasing me with a slow slip of his arms. Another grin painted my face and I patted his shoulder. With a wave, I left them to their conversation and walked off toward the tavern, determined to see Sera. The tavern was bursting at the seams, shouts and yells of different parts of a single song erupting from inside.

It didn't take much to poke my way through, mostly because once someone got a look at my face, I got a hearty slap on the back, or a salute, and they cleared the way for me. I didn't find Sera when I entered, but rather that she had, somehow, teleported into my arms magically, hollering my name with the rest of them. Naturally, being as weak as a new lamb, there was a yelp and we crashed to the ground.

Sera was laughing on top of me, and despite the pain in my back, I laughed with her. She hugged me as well, needing no permission and kissed me smartly on the cheek, her breath smelling of the pungent alcohol Cabot was infamous for creating.

"Sera, off," I laughed, shoving at her ribs, "I was half dead, have some respect for the deceased!"

"You wot!" She giggled at me, rolling onto the floor and hauling me up by my shoulder to lean against her, in between her legs, beer and food stains down her front. "Right, see! Said to 'em it'd take the world fallin' in on ya to get ya good and dead! Didn'a say?" The templars cheered around her, about as drunk as she was, I'm sure. She hugged me tight again, from behind, a momentary squeeze that transmitted more of her worry than her words did. I held her arm as best I could, acknowledging her fear quietly.

_Me, too_.

It was a half hour or so before I could escape the tavern, with a mug and a half of whatever the hell in my stomach and giving me fuzzy vision before I trotted off in search of my other companions. Solas was not at the edge of his cabin's viewpoint, and his door was closed. I took it for what it meant, our earlier discussion still hot on my brain, and moved on to the Chantry. Waves and cheers followed me, bits of embarrassment crept in, my ears flushing red and the back of my neck on fire.

At the Chantry doors, I paused, staring at my feet for an extended moment. Slowly, my gaze traveled up to the sky. Above us, the same dark and heavy rain clouds I had seen before I was brought back to Haven floated overhead. The sun was blotted out, wisps of snow drifted around us and the darkened hole where the Breach was, hung dormant. A shudder ran over my shoulders and I quickly stepped into the Chantry.

Vivienne and Mother Giselle greeted me by Vivienne's desk. Mother Giselle gave me a careful bow, her full lips gentle in a smile before she excused herself, leaving me with my companion. Vivienne stood with me in silence, a small glance over me and then to my hand before her hard gaze returned to my face. Nearly unperceivable, her body shifted and relaxed, her back swaying like a willow.

"I'm glad to see that you survived, my dear." She said softly, her mouth even on her face. "It would have been dreadful to know all that you've done, and you would never see the result."

It was all the congratulations I was going to get, but it warmed me to pink and I smiled, my hands rolling in my cloak's edge, pleased.

"At this point, what couldn't I do, right?" I answered sheepishly, fighting my grin.

A hint of a smirk touched her lips, "What could you not accomplish, indeed. As I said, I expect a many great things from you, darling. You've proven that quite aptly. Let us continue the trend." She dipped her head slightly, her mouth soft and cheeks high and I returned the gesture, inordinately pleased with myself at having gotten so high a praise from Vivienne.

Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen were nowhere to be found in the Chantry. Vivienne pointed a disinterested finger back out into the courtyard and off I went, searching with my nose practically to the ground. I had reached the front gate to find the place completely flooded with people, the fifty-odd people from Bull's Chargers and the rest of the Templars having arrived made the area a rave.

"There she is!" Krem's voice hollered from somewhere in the throng of people. Glancing about, I spotted his hair before his face and grinned as I dashed my way over the steps to their company. Half the faces I didn't recognize; Krem's mouth was split into a grin, his cheeks bright and red from either the chill or alcohol, and it was anyone's guess to which at this point.

"I thought the celebration was later tonight, what the hell is this?" I cajoled, gesturing to a barrel with my open palm. The barrel itself was hacked on one side, a mace embedded and acting like a weird spout, turned one way to pour and another to close off the stream of leaking drink.

"Well uh," Krem was immediately backpedalling, hand at the back of his head, "see, thing is, it's damaged goods, right? Can't have that mucking up the works, so we –"

"Cremisius Aclassi, look at me." I pointed to my eyes with my index and middle fingers. He stopped, glancing up with startled blinks. "You're a big fat liar and I love you for it."

I was rewarded with a handsome grin, making my heart flutter at the ease of which he delivered it. He clapped me on the shoulder and wiggled me further into the group, the Chargers singing some nonsense around me as I found myself in Bull's shadow, a mug in his good hand and his single eye lit up, watching his crew.

Where my heart had fluttered with Krem's grin, it shuttered to a full stop as Bull noticed me and graced me with a long, languid smile, canines flashing under his lips. Though I was a hundred percent sure any and all blood I had in my body had evaporated through my skin, there was just enough to flood my face straight to my ears. I must have been sweating a river, no doubt.

"The woman of the hour," Bull greeted me, mocking me with a half bow and folded arm over his stomach. He stood upright as the Chargers hooted, his grin wider, "Good to see you alive, Boss. Would have been boring without you around."

"Really?" I choked, forcing my humor and waving my hand at the company around me, "looks like y'all would have done just fine."

"Oh sure, but this is normal." He teased, bringing his arm around my shoulders and tugging me to his side, "But there's nothing quite as exciting as watching you run head first into danger."

"Bull, I almost died," I couldn't breathe, not because he held me tight, but rather because I knew if I drew breath, I was going to faint from his scent. It was an odd mixture of some sharp alcohol (far stronger than whatever was in the barrel, for sure), wood, and leather. To think romance warned me the man I fell for would smell of sandalwood and spice; I feel that would have been easier to survive  _that_ then this torture.

"What was it you said," he rumbled, mouth sharpened by a smirk as he tilted and leaned his head down to me, "Almost is not the same as actual?"

_Fucking hell, he's going to kill me._

To save myself, I reached up and smacked a hand to his face. There was no pressure to push him away and his one eye practically brightened tenfold between my fingers, his mouth moving into a wide grin against my palm. My face was on fire and the Chargers were snickering at us, no one could tell me otherwise.

"You have a nasty habit of biting me in the ass, you know that?" I grumbled, rubbing his nose in my palm to punctuate my point. It was the worst possible thing to do, because he only grinned against it and nipped at my palm. A yelp jerked from my voicebox and had the Chargers cackling around us.

"That wasn't an offer!" I swore, snatching my hand back before he decided on anything else. A bellowing laugh rolled up from his stomach to his chest, rattling me against his side. He patted my back affectionately and loosened his hold, letting me stand on my own. From somewhere deep in the recesses of my bowels, my heart returned behind my ribs, my pulse echoing in my ears.

"You're a drunk asshole," I laughed, smacking his stomach with the back of my hand. It bounced off harmlessly, his muscles didn't twitch at the touch and he snickered, taking the last draught of his mug and tossing it to Krem.

"Takes more than a barrel or two to get me there, so we're good."

" _How_  much?!"

-0-

The celebration kicked off just as the sun began to set. The few mages we had in our ranks set off sparks of Veilfire and music started to play from somewhere and everywhere. People sang at different tempos and with different songs, poor Maryden pulled from one end of Haven to another, singing to her heart's content. My companions came and went as the festivities grew around me, their faces warmed with relief and freedom.

Exhaustion had arrived sooner than I had thought, but not so soon as to be unexpected. My limbs were sore and my left arm had started to throb. I took leave of my last group of citizens and moved up to where Leliana's tent had been, taken down for the celebration. Carefully, I sat on one of the crates, my feet dangling over the edge to the lower ground below me.

Footsteps came up from behind and with a quick glance, I spied Cassandra approaching. Without a thought, I held out a hand to her and the woman blinked at it, taking it with a tentative hold of her fingers. My own squeezed hers, love and affection and satisfaction all wrapped up into the gesture before I let go. She watched my hand drift away before looking out over the dancing crowd.

"Solas confirms the heavens are scarred but calm." She murmured with a glance at me. "The Breach is sealed." Silence settled comfortably between us, she shifted on her feet and drew her arms behind her back. The sense of more needing to be said tickled me, so I turned to her in my seat.

"We've reports of lingering rifts, and many questions remain," she continued, her eyes at my left hand, "but this was a victory. Word of your heroism has spread."

I snorted softly and shrugged, "Cassandra, we know how many people this chaos needed. I was lucky and got shoved into the middle of it."

"A strange kind of luck. I'm not sure if we need more or less." She sighed, rolling a shoulder under her armor. I tightened my cloak around me, briefly wishing I had dressed in something warmer. "But you're right. This was a victory of alliance. One of the few in recent memory."

Templars wandered past us, howling and needling each other with jabs, laughing between themselves as they stumbled to God-only-knew where. A chuckle bubbled up as I watched them, glad to have been a part of the reason they could enjoy themselves.

"Jaime," Cassandra started again, drawing my attention, "with the Breach closed, this alliance will need a new focus, and I –"

A war horn roared in the distance, the warning drums at the end peaks of Haven's range hammered to life and with a strange sort of empty fear, I stood next to Cassandra, both of us peering out over the wooden stakes to the distant mountainside. Little pops of torchlight started to appear, traveling down the snow and through the trees. As if from a movie in faded memory, the battle-bells started to toll.

Icy poison gripped the back of my throat, Cullen's voice echoed up through the falling snow:

"Forces approaching! To  _arms_!"

I waited not at all for Cassandra and made a mad-dash through the scurrying people toward my cabin, crashing in through my door with wild eyes, searching for my armor. Blackwall was seconds behind me, having seen me run from his place at Varric's tent. His face flickered with surprise before it set hard and he lunged for my armor stand, dragging me to it. An eternity passed as he shoved me into my leathers and armor, clasping my pieces tight and fastening my belts.

My maul appeared in my hands and without a word, we flew through my door. At the gate to Haven's courtyard, Solas and Bull greeted me with furrowed mouths and heavy foreheads, clearly displeased with the situation. Civilians continued to scatter around us, the Chargers filing away from their spots to grab gear and usher people to safer places.

"So," Bull adjusted his maul with a look to me, "celebratory drinks are on hold, I take it?"

"Until I figure out who the fuck crashed the party, yeah." I answered darkly, adjusting my gloves over my hands and jogging to the front gate. Cassandra and Leliana stood with Cullen, all faces grim in the dying firelight, the echoes of a march coming to us in waves from the mountainside.

"Cullen?" Cassandra called off to my side, appearing with her weapons now in hand. She settled into my left side naturally, my companions shifting around me like water, with Bull at my back, Solas blocked by his massive size to be hidden, and Blackwall at my right.

The Commander turned to us, somber. "One surviving watchguard reporting. It's a massive force, the bulk over the mountain."

"Under what banner?" Josephine's voice drifted from Leliana's other side.

" _None_ ," Cullen spat.

"None?" Josephine parroted in surprise. At the end of her words, the gate before us rattled on its hinges, the wood creaking from hearty blows. My bones jumped under my skin, with alarm, my gaze flashed up to the mountain's slopes, but the forces were still approaching. Blackwall and I trotted up to the door, a voice calling through it.

"If you'd be so kind, it's rather drafty on this side!"

Blackwall shared a look with me before we reached for the gate and hauled it open. Cullen followed hot on our heels as we did so, the gates thrown back to reveal scattered bodies of armored mages, staffs frozen into their hands or snapped under them. A man dressed in leathers, bright with studs, exhaled with blowing gusts of hot breath and glanced up at us.

"Ah!" He cleared his throat, using his staff to stand on his feet. "I'm here to warn you. Fashionably late, I'm afraid." A small smirk flashed on his face before he tipped hard on one heel, Cullen and I dove to catch him. I clanked against Cullen's pauldrons as my commander secured a hold on the mage.

"Mite exhausted. Don't mind me," the mage soothed, patting Cullen away. His honeyed gaze found me, going wide at the sight. "There you are! I came to tell you what happened with the mages at Redcliffe. You're not going to like it."

Leliana's hearing was eagle-sharp, appearing at my back in an instant, her eyes narrowed on the newcomer. The mage paid her no mind, his gaze focused with mine, holding it as he spoke, swaying on his feet from his efforts to stay upright. My breath disappeared in a vacuum of my chest, my gaze flickering up to the mountainside,  _don't tell me..._

"They are under the command of the Venatori, in service to something called The Elder One," he gasped, attempting to steady his footing, "the woman is Calpernia. She commands the Venatori, for  _that._ " He turned and pointed up at a high cliff, a handful of kilometers from where we stood, pecks into the darkness.

" _The Elder One._ " The man shook his head, backing up toward us, "They were already marching on Haven. I risked my life to get here first!" It was scant minutes he had given us, but it hopefully we wouldn't waste them. Frantic thoughts ricocheted through my head, because even though we had Templars, that wasn't necessarily a straight-win against hundreds of mages.

And who the fuck knew what  _Venatori_  mages could do.

"Cullen!" I gripped the Commander's elbow, jerking his attention to me, "Give me a plan, anything!"

"Haven is no fortress," Cullen fumed, nose flared and mouth tight over his teeth. "If we are to withstand this monster, we must control the battle." He turned to Blackwall, his gaze sliding between the Warden and Bull, then back to me.

His shoulder went stiff and he reached for his sword, "Get  _out_  there and hit that force, use everything you can!" The sword hissed as it was yanked from its sheath, Cassandra followed the same and stood sturdy at the Commander's side, Leliana glared at the mountain and quickly hurried herself and Josephine back toward the courtyard, likely to take shelter in the Chantry. Blackwall took the mage by the arm and practically tossed him toward the gate, Bull and Solas drew up next to me as Cullen shouted orders behind us to the soldiers that gathered at his call.

Blackwall began leading us to the trebuchets.

"We need to set those trebuchets to fire!" Blackwall barked. Inquisition soldiers flew in around us once Cullen dismissed them, running toward the siege weapon. "Load them up, we'll keep them off you!" I couldn't catch my breath, terror taking my voice as I reached for my maul. It was a relief someone had their head on for command. We separated around the trebuchet, Solas and I to one side, Blackwall and Bull to the other.

The battle begun.

Handfuls of them charged up on either side, bombarding us with spells slung hard from their staffs. Solas was deadly silent as he dropped his heaviest barrier over my head, my armor and maul glowing a wild, blazing blue-green. The spells hurled our way bounced off my barrier as I charged forward. Close enough to see the eyes of my first opponent, my right heel dug into the snow, dirt and ice bunching at my foot. I pivoted with my momentum of my maul swing from the opposite side.

The head of my weapon caught the metal stave of the mage, electricity chattering on contact as he shoved me back. My weapon hit the ground like a brake and with it planted, I launched forward with a raised knee, still within range of hand-to-hand combat. The mage grunted as my joint landed in his stomach, he gripped my leg and raised his staff only to find my maul sailing up again from under him, shattering his knee.

We both hit the ground, but I fell on top of him, landing with all my weight and crushing his lower ribs with my armored knee. Hastily, I brought my maul up with one hand, jerked the handle higher in my grip and allowed gravity to drag it down as I aimed for his face. The helmet bowed inward, there was a gurgle of a gasping breath before his twitching stopped.

_One down_ , I thought emptily.  _Christ, what's happened to me?_

There was no time to contemplate the vacant sense of apathy holding me tight. I looked up, wincing as more spells flew past me, sizzling as they shot close enough to feel their heat.  _Jesus Christ! Where'd they get magic like that?_  All we needed was the sandstorm from Mad Max to make it Hell On Earth. Some of the spells began to blind me, bright against the snow. I shielded my eyes and looked for my companions.

Fire flared and flashed around me, Solas' spells were cascading from above my head and bombarding new invaders, he was heaving hard, his breath hot swirls in the air. The Inquisition soldiers were working with the noise hammering around them, desperately trying to load the trebuchet for launch.  _They need a minute more._  My feet brought me up to stand, only to roll as a frost spell twisted my way. Solas smacked it away with a gust of fire, his eyes dark and steady on the Venatori.

Two others came up to me, one with a book and another with his staff.  _The book's dangerous, get the book, hurry-hurry!_  Because that meant the mage could cast without his hands and could spawn glyphs faster than his mates. With heels skipping across the ground, the maul's handle on my hip, I dashed forward, ducking under the mage with the staff and gunning for the bookworm. Glyphs formed in front of him, his figure fading.

I launched my maul at him, releasing it with a half-cocked swing. It startled him enough that he clutched his book to his chest and the glyph faded from sight. Swift as I could manage, I yanked my dagger from my belt and rocketed forward, catching the mage in his stomach and ripping it down, the hilt caught on the robes and skin, slicing down only an inch or so.

Shock struck him, his gasp nearly silent. He dropped to his knees, scrambling to keep his book with him, the other mage preoccupied with Solas. My hands were slick with blood, but I was quick enough to kick his book away with an awkward mule-kick and punched him across the face hard enough with my gauntlets to strike him unconscious.

_I am going to need some serious therapy if I ever get back, murder should not come so easy._

My lungs were struggling, hitched with dry, heaving inhales. My organs felt on fire and the blood was already crusting on my hands from the cold winter wind. Finding my maul, I dragged it out of the snow and found Solas sweating heavily, his shoulders shaking from the use of his magic. Ice shards crested his staff and I hurried toward him, careful to keep my hands to myself.

"We're ready to fire!" One of the Inquisition yelled.

"Fire!" I screamed, my voice cracking on the letters. Head turning, I searched for my companions again, the Inquisition soldiers spotting the area. The trebuchet groaned and grunted as it was prepped and then the scream of gears as it was released, the ropes swinging tightly with its load soaring into the mountainside.

"They need help on the other side!" A soldier called from further away, toward the other trebuchet. I sped ahead of Solas, my maul on my shoulder and the thundering steps of Bull followed on my heels as we made our way past their side.  _There you are!_  Getting to the other trebuchet was a trial, more mages peppered up from the lower region. One glance at the siege weapon told me enough.

"Fuck!" I shouted, dashing toward the machine. "It's not prepared! Cover me!"

"Herald, wait!" Blackwall roared, the clank of sword to staff echoing after.

"No time!" Bull answered him, "Do as she says!" He grunted as he brought his maul across three bodies with a single swing. Long and painful strides got me to the platform, my maul was dropped at my feet as I gripped the handle to bring the sling into the guide chute. The mechanism fought with me, my weight the only source of power I had to keep turning. It was an agonizing minute or so before the sling was fully secured down into the chute. I locked it in place and turned, my hair flying into my face.

"Bull!" I blared, looking for him. His figure appeared a little further off, but he came charging toward me at full speed, the last opponent at his arm having his neck snapped in the process. The Qunari was a few feet from me before I pointed to the compacted loads used as ammunition for the trebuchet. He understood well enough and hurried to obey, dragging the weight into the sling. Solas and Blackwall kept the mages at bay, slowly backing up toward us.

"Solas, fire!" I commanded, voice shaking as I prepped the launch. The load was set ablaze and with a vicious kick of my heel, I released the sling. The flames whistled past us through the chute as the counter-balance brought its full weight forward and the sky lit with the fireball.

It crashed into the mountainside. Seconds past and then the echoing crack of the avalanche rumbled through the valley's pass. Trees were swallowed and the torches of the invading force were rapidly blinking out as the snow and rocks smothered them with each passing moment. Cheers were thrown up around me, hollers of victory and relief, my men celebrating their survival.

My shoulders slumped and I brought my blood-covered hands to my forehead, sighing in relief. The majority of the forces would be dead ( _now I'm a mass murderer, joys_ ), the battle would be easier to control once they funneled into Haven –

Then, from the pitch black sky, a comet of fire shrieked toward us. Bull barely managed to snag me in his arms and forced us into the snowbank as the comet crashed into the trebuchet. The wood howled as it was splintered, chunks and pieces flying everywhere, even catching a few unfortunate souls in their descent. The siege weapon's wood was hissing in flame, the metal flash-melted and morphed into useless shapes.

"The fuck was  _that_!" I demanded, digging my way out from under Bull. A shadow soared past us, its form long and massive against the ground. My thoughts scattered at the sight, the wings breathing with sharp thrusts over our heads, the roar of the beast deafening. I looked up in time only to see its tail whip through the dark night.

"We can't fight that!" Blackwall warned, picking up men from the ground. "Herald!"

"Get to the gates!" I ordered heatedly, Bull at my back and maul back in my hands. " _Run_!" Bull's hand shoved itself into the small of my back, rushing me forward. Unbelievably, I smacked his hand away and forced myself into a run, trailing behind my soldiers as they made their retreat. The exhales of the creatures wings blew down onto our backs, the shadow shooting over the snow. A roar cracked my ears.

_Holy fuck, we're dead, we're fucked, we're so fucked!_

Harritt stood at his door, slamming his foot against the fallen crates. Blackwall hurried ahead and assisted the man, bringing his axe clear over his head, up to his toes in height and slammed down on the crate and door, crashing it open. Bull and Solas continued with me to the gates, dogging my footsteps to keep me from falling behind.

"Move it!" Cullen shouted, waving us through the gates. " _Move_! Hurry!" I skidded through the door, one heel thrown out from under me making me fall briefly, I latched onto the gate's handle with a wild flail and managed to stand just as Blackwall and Harritt pulled through, my Warden shoving his weight against me and shutting the door swiftly.

"We need everyone back to the Chantry!" Cullen shouted, storming his way up the stairs. "It's the only building that can hold against that —  _beast!_ "

"Cullen," my voice shook as I followed him up the stairs. The Commander stopped and glared at me briefly, anger and the twitch of desperation pulling at his mouth. "Cullen! What do we do? It's a fucking —  _it's a dragon!_ "

"At this point…" Cullen exhaled roughly, exhaustion flooding him, "just make them work for it." He left up the stairs, yelling at soldiers as he went, commanding them to retreat. Turning on my heel slightly, I glanced at my men, all three of them shifted their gazes to me. My bottom lip trembled slightly, fear starting to creep up through my bones.

"Get the people to the Chantry, I…" My eyes closed and my hands curled into fists. The dried blood felt like gloves over my fingers. They gripped harder and I squared my shoulders.  _Not this time. We didn't save the world only to lose it to some piece of ninny asshole and his thugs. As long as the dragon doesn't land on us._

_Fuckity fuck._ I rolled my shoulders, keeping them tight and raised my head, my molars clenched for a long moment.

"Get the people to the Chantry." I ordered, leveling my gaze to the three of them. "Save who you can, but don't waste time searching for too long. Get inside,  _stay_  inside, hear me?"

"What are you doing?" Blackwall demanded, voice low with a hard step toward me. I raised a hand and planted it on his chest, keeping him at bay, doing my best to keep my expression from crumbling.

"Find my people. Keep them safe. Get them to the Chantry." I pushed at his chest lightly and turned to Solas and Bull, hesitating. My gaze settled on Bull, "Get the Chargers to the Chantry, whoever is left. Fortify the doors and go down to the dungeons. Hold out as long as you can."

"Boss," Bull breathed, but I ignored him and turned to Solas.

"Do not think for a second you could send me away." Solas growled at me, vicious rage on his face, morphing his eyes into something wicked. "If this is to be the end, then we shall make it excruciating for them."

"Good plan," I nodded. The two of us spared nothing else for my other companions and took hurried leaps through the courtyard. Doors were slammed open, people pulled out from fires and fallen debris. Blackwall marching off at breaking speed to gather who he could, and Bull soon disappeared from my sight to collect his men.

_I know they're angry,_ I found Adan and hurried to get him free, my mind racing.  _I know they're angry, but I can't_ —  _I can't afford the emotion right now. I have to_ —  _there's got to be something we can do. We can't just dig into the hole to die, buried in our self-made grave._  More people fled to the Chantry and Solas and I cleared the courtyard of who we could.

The place was starting to become overrun as demonic, deformed mages were appearing in the horde, spells were starting to overwhelm what few soldiers who stood to ward off the approaching advance. Solas and I turned our tails and sped toward the Chantry. The doors were held open, a familiar voice yelling over the chaos.

"Move!" Roderick hollered, waving people in, his face bruised and bleeding. "Keep going! The Chantry is your shelter!"

"Roderick!" I exclaimed in surprise. I reached for the man without thought, the chill of my darkened hands noticeable against his skin and robes. He collapsed to a knee and coughed, blood splattering from his lips. The mage who had come to warn us immediately beside him, pulling Roderick to his feet.

"A brave man," the mage told me, helping Roderick over to a seat as the doors slammed shut behind us, "he stood against a Venatori."

"Roderick," I abolished weakly.  _That explains his Picasso face, Christ._

Roderick shook his head, "Briefly. I am no Templar." I followed them to a nearby support pillar, helping the mage set Roderick into the chair. Upon closer inspection in the torch light, I could see scorch marks along his robes, his sleeves were torn and the blood had dried at the collar around his mouth.

"What were you thinking," I muttered to him, ripping some of his sleeves to make what swaths of bandages I could for the damage. The mage blinked at me, surprised.  _I've been monster enough for the day, Roderick doesn't need lip from me right now._

"Herald!" Cullen's voice reverberated down through the Chantry's hallway, he jogged over to us, eyes momentarily on Roderick before flashing to me. "Our position is not good. That dragon stole back any time you might have earned us."

"No fucking shit, Cullen —" I stood, glaring at him.

The doors to the Chantry opened again, the last of the Chargers filing in hastily with bodies thrown over their shoulders or draped across their arms. Bull looked bloodier than when I left him and his one eye scanned the Chantry before he spotted me. Relief seem to flood his expression for a moment before it steeled and he stormed after his men, commanding them.

"There has been no communication, no demands." Cullen watched the Qunari go, counting heads as the Chargers went past. "Only advance after advance."

"There was no bargaining with the mages, either." Our newcomer interrupted with a scoff. "This Elder One takes what it wants. From what I gathered in Redcliffe, it marched all of this way to take your Herald." Exasperated and exhausted, I raised my arms to drop them against my sides, my body throbbing with pain and my head about to burst.

"If you've got the faintest idea why the fuck he's after me, I'd be overjoyed to hear it." I snapped, my irritation boiling just under my lungs. "Because it's  _over_ , the Breach is  _closed_."

"Well, that, and taking the Templars — I've no idea what would incur this much wrath." The mage's eyes flickered over my shoulder. A small glance of my own followed and I found my men, Bull and Blackwall, with Solas not too far off, watching and listening.

The mage chuckled, shaking his head, "And you lot had such a promising start with the landslide. If only trebuchets remained an option."

"They are," Cullen breathed with a sharp look to me, "if we turn the last of them to the mountains above us."

"Cullen, we're fucked." I answered him, gesturing behind me with a wave of my hand, "If we hit them, we kill ourselves doing so." The Commander's face darkened and he step toward me, close enough that our faces were a hand's length apart, his voice low and rumbling, pained.

"This is not survivable  _now_ ," he growled into my face, "the only choice left is how spitefully we end this." Bull's face came to view a few paces behind the Commander's shoulder and my heart thudded in my chest, twisting to escape between my ribs.

_No_.  _We're not running. I'm done running!_

My focus returned to Cullen's face, my head shaking as I stepped away from him. The nerves of my hands fired enough to make them shake, the sour chill of some sick heartache and anxiety took the place of my runaway heart, filling the void with a loneliness I hadn't felt in  _months_.

_I don't want to lose any of you._

"Well," the mage's voice broke in between us, drawing our attention away from each other. "That's not acceptable. I didn't race here only to have you drop rocks on my head."

"Should we submit?" Cullen challenged darkly, turning toward the mage. "Let him kill us?"

"Dying is typically a  _last_  resort, not first!" The newcomer barked back, sculpted eyebrows frowning. "For a Templar, you think like a blood mage!"

"Hey!" I kept them apart with a shove of my hands on their chests.

"There is a path," Roderick gasped, holding up a hand. I glared at the men before my feet brought me to Roderick, my hand reaching out and holding his palm in mine, the copper red of old blood stark against his paling skin. He looked to me, struggling, "You wouldn't know it was there unless you'd made the summer pilgrimage, as I have."

A cough choked him, his fingers tight over mine. "The people  _can_  escape. Sh — she must have shown me. Andraste must have shown me so I could… tell you."

"What are you talking about, old man?" I murmured. He tugged at my hand and reluctantly, I assisted him to his feet. He trembled against me and leaned his weight parallel to my leg. Best as I could, I held him up as he spoke, his mouth wobbling as he formed his words.

"It was whim that I walked the path, I did not mean to start, it was overgrown." Another cough, with another spatter of blood that stained my hands, blotching them bright with new flecks. "Now, with so many in the Conclave dead, to be the only one who remembers… I don't know, Herald."

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. His face was paling, his eyes fading at their edges, his focus was starting to waver in the light. My hand stayed in his, my other coming around his back to hold his other elbow to steady him, alarmed now that I could recognize the sounds of a slowly dying man, undone not by weapon, but by time.

"If this — simple memory can save us, this could be more than mere accident," Roderick mumbled to me, loud enough only for my ears. " _You_  could be more." I searched his face, but the usual contempt had been stripped by his pain, he held onto my shoulder, weakened and demoralized. My arms squeezed him in half a hug.

My gaze flashed to Cullen, "What about it, Cullen? Will it work?"

Bull and Blackwall stiffened like boards just outside of my vision, their paranoia over my safety more than likely bringing them up to speed with the plan forming in my head. Cullen glanced over my face warily, his mouth hard over his teeth.  _If we can do this, if we can pull this off, think of all the people we'll save, Cullen._

_You don't need me anymore. The Breach is closed._

"Possibly," Cullen said slowly, " _If_  he shows us the path, but… what of your escape?" I ignored him, and the low rumbling growl I could hear from Bull came rolling within the shadows of the fading torches. Instead, with gentle hands, I led Roderick over to the mage, passing him over and letting go with my fingers shaking.

"Perhaps you  _can_  surprise The Elder One." The newcomer eyed me with awe. A weak smile touched my lips,  _should have seen me when I started this shit. What a mess._

Cullen gritted his teeth, but turned to the soldiers and Chargers, "Inquisition! Follow Chancellor Roderick through the Chantry! Move!" Bull flicked a hard hand at his men, Lieutenant Aclassi far from pleased, but they obeyed and began to pack and move, following Cullen and the others.

"Herald," Roderick drew my gaze to him, his voice soft, "If you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is meant for this, I pray for you."

I forced a half-hearted smile to my lips, nodding my head. "... thank you, Roderick." More soldiers trotted past me, my eyes widened at the sight, but Cullen manifested at my elbow and took a hold of it, turning me toward him.

"They'll load the trebuchets. Keep The Elder One's attention until we're above the treeline," He informed me, voice weakening. "If we are to have a chance — if  _you_  are to have a chance — let that thing  _hear_  you."

I nodded.  _Christ. Fuck. What am I doing?_ Cullen pulled away and leveled me with a final, searching look before he turned on his heel and marched to the end of the Chantry with the mage and Roderick. My eyes found the men waiting for me, their faces twisted with anger, or in Bull's case, apathy.

My heart stuttered in my chest, ashamed.

"... how about it, guys?" I asked my silent watchers, voice cracking. "What's one more round, eh?"

"You're insane if you think I'm leaving you now." Blackwall snapped at me, sword and shield brandished in his hands. "I told you before. Where you go, I follow."

"We've come this far." Solas murmured, less anger, but with a sympathy I couldn't place. "I will see this to its end, with you."

"People, demons, or dragons," Bull answered, expression closed, "told you I'm your man for the job."

"Right," I choked, biting the inside of my cheek and exhaling hard before turning toward the doors, my hand coming up to pull my maul from its holster.

"Let's give 'em hell, boys."


	4. ACT II: Herald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime reaches her lowest of low and takes a hard climb to see the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Themes of depression and heavy anxiety ahead, minor (squint you'll miss it) suicidal thoughts. Please be aware as you go in, this may trigger memories (as I'm using my own personal experiences) and I want to make sure we're all safe. 
> 
> Remember, you are never truly alone. If it gets bad, I am here for you. PM me if needed.
> 
> Thanks to all who continue to come back and read this story, leaving comments and love. You are the true driving force of this story.
> 
> Also: Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Winter Solstice, Happy Kwanzaa, and please have a safe celebration to the New Year.

****

"I understand the strategy," Solas grunted as he brought a barrier over our heads as we entered the courtyard, "but I usually avoid so much attention."

"Yeah, well." I intoned, adjusting my gloves over my hands to hide the dried blood and pulling my maul over my shoulder. "What do you think I've been trying to do ever since Cassandra had me in shackles?" The others were quiet, their battle nerves keeping them focused and steady, were as mine had me spouting nonsensical humor at my discomfort.

We made a hard march through the courtyard. Mages and deformities waiting for us at the far end by the gate. The echoing, rolling shriek of the dragon circled over our heads, the shape of the creature obscured by the low clouds and rising smoke of destruction. Bull stepped forward and took a hard look up at the sky, sighing.

"You know," he murmured whimsically, "when I wanted you to see a dragon, it wasn't like this."

"Of all the things you had to say…" I muttered angrily, yanking the handle of my maul hard to balance it in my grip. My head shook and we drove ourselves into the fray. Solas cleared the first few invaders by the gate with a sweeping wave of blazing fire, the snow controlling where it went, the mages slamming spells to their feet to keep from burning alive.

They must have not realized Bull and Blackwall gave no shits about scorch marks.

Those two took wild leaps over the fire and together crashed like an avalanche onto the mages, crushing them down between hammer-head and axe, Blackwall's shield acting like a riot-shield and shoving any escaping limbs into Bull's monstrous swings. Solas brought the gates open with a mind-blast, the wooden structures yowling as they were split open, wood pieces flying into the snow. More mages greeted us beyond the gates, and I stood waiting for them, baiting them closer.

They ran through only to meet the business end of Bull's fearsome swing, another two or three instantly dead from the blow. Solas and I rushed after Blackwall, the Warden taking a good portion of the horde with his shield, barking his rage with every vicious hack of his axe. Solas cleared my path with another gust of fire and large spears of ice that shot up from the ground. My legs carried me through the carnage, ignoring the screams and howls behind me.

"Should have taken fucking track, like mom said." I growled at myself, charging the distance from the gates to the last trebuchet standing.  _Why did he leave just that one? Did he think we weren't a threat anymore? Asshole._ I was going to make him eat shit for doing this to my people. The area for the last trebuchet had a handful or so of mages and panic surprised me as a spell tripped my feet, a splattering of ice caught my heel.

My face hit the ground at full-throttle and another spell of electricity snagged on Solas' barrier, igniting the air around me. Blood poured from my forehead, blinding me slightly. The head of my maul was brought in an arch across the ground, clipping the heels of the approaching mage. The arch continued and momentum brought the head to my heel, breaking the ice enough for my foot to yank through. A combat-roll had me swirling through the snow, my maul bounced over me and hit the ground to be my anchor.

Up I went with a shove and cracked the top of my skull against a chin of a charging mage. My eyes rattled in my head and wildly, I took a swing with my maul in retaliation, hitting the man's hip.  _You fucking dick-stick, why were you so fucking close?_  The back hand swing brought the maul into his stomach and I launched him backwards into his companions.

Bull stormed past me, anger radiating like the sweat steamed off his shoulders. One poor bastard got his face snagged in an unforgiving grip and Bull crushed his face in with a pull of his fingers. Solas fade-stepped around us, bringing up another wall of ice to block off the rest of the remaining mages. Blackwall jogged past us toward the trebuchet.

"Hurry!" He barked. "We don't have much time before they swarm us!"

"How the fuck do we turn this thing?" I came up to the siege weapon, glancing around its base. I could see anchors around the base and a turnstile wheel at one side, hooked up to the gigantic thing.

"Not easily." Bull grunted. He waved to Blackwall, "Grab that side, I'll take this one. Solas, keep them off of her back — Boss, you're gonna have to turn that thing as fast as you can."

"Oh, you're fucking kidding me, what is this a time trial?" The growl left my lips with no heat. The maul was left within reach of my hand in case shit flew and with all the strength I had left to muster, both of my hands gripped the bottom spoke and heaved into a full turn.

"This shit shouldn't weigh so much!" I complained, hauling another full turn on the device.

"Less whining, more turning!" Blackwall snapped at me, nearly tripping as he pulled from his side, assisting with the speed of the siege weapon. The banter was extremely strange considering the situation we were in, but with Solas' spells whistling in the background, the dragon's shadow haunting us with each sweeping pass, and my struggle with a device that was several hundred years non-essential in my world: I would have considered it normal.

"I swear to God when I die," I grunted, my hand slipping from the spokes for half a second, "I'm going to come back and haunt all of your asses."

"Please don't," Bull growled, his shoulder shoved into the base of the trebuchet, fighting against the snow to keep his balance as he pushed, "last thing I fucking need is your attitude in my dreams, too."

"Bite me, horn dog!"

" _What_  did you just call me?"

"Could we go a bit faster, please?" Solas interrupted with a strained voice. "As entertaining as this is, I feel ashamed at having to remind you lot about the severity of the situation!"

"I concur!" Blackwall bellowed. He was completely hidden by the base of the trebuchet and when I looked up, I could see that the sling and chute were now facing Haven. A glance over my shoulder wasn't enough to tell if the Inquisition had made it over the treeline yet.

"Load it!" Bull shouted to Blackwall, cranking the turnstile of the sling to bring it down into the guide chute. Blackwall hurried to obey and I left them to it, reaching Solas' side to assist him with the invaders. My elven companion was starting to falter, his spells slowing and his arms shook with each new swing. In reach of him, my hand shot out to take his elbow, turning him toward me.

"Solas, clear a path for —" My voice died in my throat, because just above my companion's head was a growing black dot. It was hurtling toward us at a monstrous speed and Solas followed my eyes up into the sky, a sharp gasp shooting through him.

"Move!" I screamed at Bull and Blackwall, " _Now!_ "

It was seconds that we had, both of my companions heeding my words without a thought and made mad-dashes toward my position with Solas. I shoved at Solas' back, throwing him into a run to get him away from the incoming slaughter. The dragon roared, shattering the air around us before lighting it up with a firestorm. The stream of flame struck wickedly close and catapulted us all into the air.

My world spun into shades of gold and black, red flames turning into swirls of hissing snakes as I came crashing down into the ground shoulders first. There was no time to roll, my hips smacked into the ground and starbursts flooded my eyes. The ringing in my ears wavered, voices muffled through the explosive greeting. Everything felt like it was in pain, or on fire. Both, if I was lucky.

A few hard blinks cleared my vision of its drunkenness with a hand to steady my head. Slowly I rose into a sit, looking around for either my maul or my companions. Neither was anywhere within reach or within sight; except for the looming shadow that strutted toward me in the fire. My knees brought me up, shaking in my armor, the figure stood taller than I was, with shards of red lyrium ripping through his skin, fur or feathers covered his shoulders and his face snarled at me.

My feet kicked into a run, trying to escape. Nowhere I looked could I find my friends, terror lacing my gasping breaths and dizzying fear had me feel wild with the urge to fly from the danger. The ground convulsed under me, the thundering gallop of a four-story tall dragon screeching into my face bringing me to a dead stop, a scream dying in my throat.

"Holy motherfucker, you're  _real_ ," I exhaled disbelievingly, the nostrils of the creature flared as it blinked at me, mouth agape and saliva or blood trickling down its blackened teeth. Another vicious screech sang up its throat and threw me back by force, landing me closer to the lanky, macabre man that cornered me from the other side.

" _Enough_!" A blast slammed into my back, turning me around to face the walking corpse. Nothing of his person made sense. Slabs of skin were stitched or belted to pieces of cloth or his battle-skirt, his head a horrendously disfigured vision of flesh and rock and his hands weren't much better than blood-dipped claws. My muscles trembled, knees and elbows lost to my shaking.

" _Pretender_." The man's voice threatened death with a hammering rumble, " _You toy with forces beyond your ken. No more._ "

"Y-you need to back the hell up, Satan!" I faltered, stepping back and wincing as my knee buckled, "What — I'm not afraid of you!"

" _Words mortals often hurl at the darkness._ " The creature's voice gave no indication of humor or seriousness, his tone droning through the fire like a steady thrum of a rockslide. " _Once they were mine. They are always lies._ "

The dragon shifted behind me and I skidded away like a spooking horse, alarmed at the heat that covered my back as the thing exhaled into the snow, spots and patches of it melting away into the dirt.  _Holy fucking hell, would I die from third-degree burns before it ate me? Fuck! Did everyone escape?_

" _Know me._ " The man continued, unmoving from his position, his gaze glaring. " _Know what you have pretended to be._ "

"Fucker, keep your aesthetics," I squawked, half my attention on the dragon that nipped at the air behind me. When faced with impossible things, the mind had a tendency to immediately eradicate the more 'normal' of them, if only to ease the sense of insanity that was beginning to set over me. The trauma of seeing a  _real_ , living, breathing, snarling dragon was heinously incomprehensible to my struggling brain.

" _Listen to me._ " The man rumbled deadly steady. " _Exalt The Elder One. Know the will that is Corypheus!_ " My eyes shot wide, the impossibility factors suddenly shifting in favor of the twisted, dilapidated man in front of me, Varric's voice ringing in my head;  _the fuck did he just_ —  _no, no that's_ —

" _You will kneel._ " The creature commanded, taking a step forward.

"Y-you'll — you'll get nothing out of me!" I declared, but the effect of my rebellious reply was lost as my words stuttered and my throat constricted the use of my tongue. A pause breathed between us, the creature shifting on its feet and turning its mouth at me in disgust.

" _You will resist. You will always resist. It matters not._ " The creature's attention turned away from me, its blackened claw rising from its side, an orb of some sort clutched in its grip. Sparks and tendrils of red electricity danced around it, seemingly harmless to the one who held it.

" _I am here for the Anchor. The process of removing it begins now._ " With lightning speed, his other hand shot out and his palm flared red with a version of the magic that had once resided in my palm. A palm I was horrifically reminded of as his magic brought my Mark back to life, white-heat searing through my skin into my tendons and bones.

A scream ripped up from my throat, my other hand snapped to my wrist and held it, though I was sure animal-instinct was trying to yank my wrist from my arm, my knees buckled and my weight hit the ground with a thud, jarring my senses. The Fade-green tendrils lashed out and whipped around my fingers like physical tentacles, pulling at my skin and fingertips, leaving behind gashes and slips of blood.

" _It is your fault,_ _ **Herald**_ _. You interrupted a ritual years in the planning, and instead of dying, you stole its purpose._ " The creature jerked his arm back and whatever invisible length of energy that connected us also pulled me forward by the muscles in my arm.

"Stop it!" Pain bloomed further up my arm and through my shoulder as I fought the pull of his magic, holding onto my wrist desperately, as if that alone would stop his theft of my limb.

" _I do not know how you survived, but what marks you as 'touched,' what you flail at rifts, I crafted to assault the very heavens._ " His fingers curled into his palm and dragged me with the movement, my knees breaking into the ground and snow as I resisted. Cramps laced through the muscles of my arm and paralyzed my joints, keeping me stiff.

The dragon growled and rumbled behind me, stepping closer and exhaling its putrid breath over my body, teeth dripping as its mouth opened and swung right next to my left side. I wanted to roll, to bolt from the smell, but Corypheus held me tight and continued to yank me forward, my palm's skin starting to burn away from the split that housed the Mark.

" _And you used the Anchor to undo my work!_ " He growled, the first sign of honest emotion rolling through his words. " _The gall!"_

"M-maybe don't lose your shit, then!" I screamed at him, painful spasms quaking through my body, my flight or fight response numbed down to senseless, sarcastic humor in an attempt to buy myself time. My watery gaze searched, but there was no sign of my maul, and the dragon's looming body blocked most of my escape options.

My stomach was rolling, nothing drew into my lungs as I inhaled, leaving me gasping and wiggling to get free of the magic that held me prisoner. Tears streamed down my cheeks and nearly the whole left arm had been stripped of any sensation aside from internal third-degree burns, my flesh whole but feeling like it was peeling away from the heat. Corypheus sneered at me, snarling as he stormed over to my prone form and took up my arm.

_Holy fucking shit,_ I struggled in his gasp. His entire claw held the length of my arm as easily as a throwing stick, yanking me up well beyond the ground and letting me dangle, useless and powerless in the air. The dragon roared, probably laughing at me, snapping its jaws wantonly near my back.

" _I once breached the Fade in the name of another, to serve the Old Gods of the Empire in person._ " Corypheus held me up, closer to his face, his head twice the size of mine, the smell of sulfur and coal surrounded him, and for a brief moment, I was sure death had come for me what with the smell of Hell poisoning every inhale.

" _I found only chaos and corruption._ " Corypheus' claws dug into my arm, his gaze darkened with rage. " _Dead whispers. For a thousand years I was confused. No more._ " With gruesome effort, my legs curled up at my knees and shoved my feet into his torso, hoping to dislodge myself from capture. The creature paid it no mind, sparing not even a glance at my efforts. Terror, bile and sickly, flooded higher in my stomach than before.

_He's going to kill me. I'm_ —  _really going to die_.

" _I have gathered the_ will  _to return under no name but my own. To champion withered Tevinter and correct this blighted world._ " He spat at me, blood trickling down my arm from his claws, flowing into my leathers and reaching my neck. Tears continued to drip from my cheeks, gasps of pain escaped me, my shoulder threatened to rebel and release my joint from its socket.

" _Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the throne of the gods, and_ _ **it was empty.**_ " He glanced at my hand, the magic from either of us sparring against each other, neither relenting in its efforts. With inhuman strength, the creature threw me through the air and my back smacked against what was left of the mangled trebuchet. Shivers wracked my body with such intensity that my stomach hurt and withered under my muscles. He snarled at me, claws gripped tight into his palms.

" _The Anchor is permanent. You have spoiled it with your stumbling._ " He stepped forward, the dragon gurgling next to him, nostrils sheared back into bone, the steam of its breathe swirling between us. The glint of something next to me caught my eye and within seconds I was scrambling for it.

_Sword! Swordswordsword_ — Never mind the fact that I had never actually trained with the sword for longer than an hour, but it was all I had, and it was a lifeline that I wasn't about to be ungrateful to have. I held it aloft, it shook violently in my hands as I pointed it at my impending doom.

" _So be it. I will begin again, find another way to give this world the nation_ —  _and_ _ **god**_  —  _it requires._ " My back pressed against the wood of the trebuchet, a wayward glance allowed enough of a picture to see that the trebuchet would collapse from the force of its counter-weight dropping if I released the lever.

A single, lit arrow pierced the sky and relief came to me, bright like the sun.

_They made it. They're alive._ My gaze fell back to the creature that was Corypheus, his monologue continuing; unaware of the turn of events around him.  _I won't_ —  _live to see this end, but I can make sure they have a chance._ My teeth gritted together, new tears falling.  _I can give them this one last thing._

" _And you,_ " Corypheus was nearly on me now, his dragon vibrating with anticipation, " _I will not suffer even an unknowing rival. You_ must  _die._ "

A slow, maniac grin took my lips. "Hell hath no fury like a pissed off woman, asshole!"

It was almost magical, watching his eyes go wide as I swung my sword around my head and crashed it against the lever of the trebuchet. The siege weapon howled in protest, the chains screaming as they released and unfurled from their anchors, the counter-weight dropping within seconds. The load within the chute wiggled violently as it was launched, colliding into the mountainside like a meteor.

The dragon turned with its master to watch the destruction.

I ran for my fucking life.

One giant leap took me off the base of the crumbling siege weapon and two more leaps got me over the snowbanks. A crazed and pained stride of my legs got me over the worst of the rocks, the dragon shrieked like hell behind me, the force of its roar slamming into the back of my heart and urging me to go faster. The avalanche was on my heels in mere moments, snow swiftly spinning and rushing my vision.

My boots caught on a rock and sent me sailing into a crevice covered by broken planks. Darkness swallowed me, something hard struck my back and by the time I hit solid ground, my vision had gone white, my consciousness fleeing me.

-0-

The sense of pain came to me first, radiating from within my body as a constant thrum. Everything from my toes to the back of my skull felt a pressure of unrelenting discomfort and twisted white-noise that I could feel even in the numbest parts of my muscles. Vision came to me next, at first swirling in nothing but black and white, then slowly into grays and blues before I realized I was in a cave.

Hearing followed after, and soon it came to my attention that I could hear sobs echoing from the walls. My hands reached around, doing what they could to grasp freedom. Snow melted under my hands, the soil loose and riddled with rocks that cut my already bleeding hands. I reached up around me to find that I was being held in place by broken planks of wood and patches of snow.

With that, I understood that the frantic weeping I could hear was mine, reflecting back to me from the walls of the cave. It made the sobs come up harder, wrecking my body and sapping it of any strength I had remaining. My arms curled around my torso and held onto their opposite shoulders, my legs pulled up as far as they could go to my chest. There I laid, for who knows how long, in a fetal position with my tears cascading into the muddy ground under me.

_What was I thinking? Honestly what the fuck. What_ —  _where am I? What am I supposed to_ —  _I just want to be home. I just_ —

Not a single coherent thought or plan came to mind, the overwhelming sense of hopelessness smothered me, faced with a creature that literally tossed me around like a ragdoll. The encounter with the dragon was no better.  _Here I thought I was_ —  _getting used to the fantasy land and I was just dead fucking wrong!_

A scream shredded through my throat, echoing a hundred-fold in the glittering, icy cave. Another after another followed, my tears slipping down my face as each new sound that escaped me shook my core and left me breathless. When the last of my strength had been spent, I went quiet, shaking from only the cold and not the abandonment I felt, the void in my gut a painful reminder that I hadn't died just yet.

Small, hiccuping and broken sobs left my lungs as I turned onto my back and kicked at the debris that acted as my cage. At first my boots slipped from the wood and the weight of the planks crashed into my chest and face. A twinge of anger fueled my efforts, then, and after a few minutes I managed to drag myself from under the mess.

My left arm had stopped bleeding some time before I noticed, but the twisted and lacerated skin was still alarming to look at. Carefully, with my sobs beginning to grow quieter, I picked up handfuls of snow and did my best to clean off my arm. I pulled at the bottom of my tunic under my battered armor and yanked enough out to cut a strip away with my knife in my belt.

It was a shit bandage job, but at least I didn't have to look at the wound anymore. It went a long way in alleviating some of my fear and hopelessness. Another handful of snow went into my mouth, the cold soothing my swollen and irritated throat, the icy sensation slowly slipped down my esophagus and into my stomach, setting me back into reality.

My right hand came up to wipe away at my face with more snow and pushed my hair back. I sat for another few minutes, unmoving, with my eyes closed and lungs taking unsteady breaths. My throat cleared and weak fingers reached for my hair, loosening my braid and refitting it into something proper.

It was another small step to normal. Something I could control.

Exhale. Inhale.

Next step.

There was no weapon in sight, only my small knife. It was tucked away again into my belt, lest I lose it in the cave. My boots were intact and the soles were whole. Good. Gently I rolled onto my knees and prayed for strength on all fours before hauling myself upright. The world spun for a good minute, vertigo getting the best of me.

Inhale. Hold it. Exhale.

Next.

An investigative look around found me a path. Then an archway before it led me out of the cave. My boots took me slow, cautious and careful over the boulders and rocks along the path. My head ducked away from the icicles, my hands catching the wall on occasion when I stumbled. Time and again, I would stop, bow my head when I became overwhelmed with my emotions.

Exhale. Count to three. Inhale.

Keep walking.

_Just keep swimming. Just keep swimming._ My thoughts sounded weak even in my head, and I knew it was because I was suffering from disassociating, my mind trying to leave my body on autopilot, to escape the anxiety and fear that grew within me.

_What if I get lost, where do I go? How do I find out what path_ —  _they were on the other side of the mountain, could I find_ —  _But what if Corypheus survived, did he fly away_ —  _which way would I go, up?_

One rolling thought after another and not a single one could I catch to keep in my grip and formulate a plan, just as before. My head rested against the bitter stone wall of the cave, the sharp strike of cold speared through my temple and a hyper focus came to it, my eyes closing again, my hands against the wall.

_Stop, Jaime._

_Just. Just one step at a time._

_Just keep swimming._

The path through the cave bent around and curved, hollow doors sheltered cave-ins, rocks littered my path, but they lessened with each step I took. Soon, the gentle touch of natural light came from the mouth at the end of the tunnel, a sweet relief to the faint glow of my renewed Mark. It was sad, almost, how disinterested I felt when a scream of Despair echoed in the shallow opening of the path.

"You know," I could hear my voice ring in my ears, unearthly and even, "I'm getting really sick and tired of you. All of you." There were three of them, and without a maul, I was as good as dead. Voices echoed through my palm and my eyes closed in defeat.  _Of course. Of_ _ **course**_   _I wasn't going to win that easily._

The Mark was all I had left, and if I was going to die, then I was going to take all of them with me.

Two of them charged for me and without a single care in the world, I raised my hand to them. Then, seconds before the first Despair collided into me, my eyes caught it: a bare, slithering flicker of the Veil, weakened and thin. I could tell the story a hundred times and to this day, I would never know what possessed me to reach up and grip the Veil.

But I did, and it ripped between my fingers like wet paper.

A multitude of tendrils snaked out from the tear  _I_  had created and captured the demons in the webbing. They howled and reached for me, desperate for escape before they were jerked and twisted, their energies dispersed into the wind with a blast. The force knocked me over, unprepared that I was. My gaze locked onto the Veil's opening, watching as it slowly stitched itself closed, never having been a true rift. My hand came up to my face and I stared, bewildered.

_What_ —  _what did I just do?!_

Resolutely, I staunchly decided never to do that again ( _not until I tell Solas. If I can tell Solas. If he's alive. Fuck._ ) and picked my way through the splatterings of the demons, or what remained of them from their violent return. Hastily, I made my way out of the cave only to find myself in a snow storm.

"Sonovabitch," I spat, shielding my eyes from the whipping snow with my right hand and striking my left hand out like a beacon. The winter wind wrapped around me, unforgiving in its power. The breath of the wind made it hard to decide which direction to go in, but considering that I was more likely to die from hypothermia than find shelter (the hell I was going back into the cave with demons and no weapon), I trudged on, directionless.

Mostly, I stared down at my feet, watching as the snow immediately filled the space my boot left with each new step I took. Occasionally I would look up to keep myself from walking into a tree (if I could see it, that was) and continued this pattern for a long while. There was no way of knowing how far I was from Haven, or perhaps I was clear on the other side of the mountain range? Emptiness drove me, hopelessness making the idea of death a peaceful one.

Maybe hypothermia wasn't so bad a way to go?

_Stop that._

Right. Just keep swimming.

In the end, the storm faded away the higher up I got, the mountain's cliffs looking vastly unfamiliar to me, but they blocked out most of the storm so they were a priceless vision to my eyes. The night sky returned over my head, the stars bright and twinkling, winking at me from overhead. The moon was full and with the storm over, offered me enough light to continue.

"Is that…?" A small, smothered came fire sat against a rock for protection. The sight of it in the lonely mountain was jarring. Slowly, I made my way over to it, noodle legs protesting with every step. At the campfire, I reached out with a trembling hand and could feel the barest echoes of heat.

"Embers?" I mumbled in surprise, digging my hand into the coals. Gentle sparks flew up and immediately disappeared with the cold wind, but the inner gut of the campfire was still warm from the dying embers. My gaze flashed around me, wondering who could be out this far. "Is this… recent? Hello!"

Desperate to find someone, anyone, an enemy at this point — I trudged on, digging my way through the snow, my hands acting as shovels each time I fell, but I could hear voices bouncing through the mountain's cliffs. A choking sob of happiness escaped me as Cullen and Cassandra's voices found my ears.

I sunk to my knees in the snow, hugging my arms around my stomach as I doubled over, exhaustion winning the battle against my will. For the second time in who-knows-how-long, I willingly gave over into the darkness just as Cullen's shadow reached me.

_I made it home._


	5. ACT II: Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime comes awake and finds the world in a mess. She forces herself back into the fray in the hopes of fixing things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Steadily chugging along. I'm sorry if I didn't mention it before, this story will be updated on a bi-weekly basis, simply because of my job and it forces me to go back and re-read the latest chapter so I can make sure the story starts on the right path. 
> 
> Again, thank you so much for all of you wonderful people who continue to return and leave their kudos and comments. You guys are my life blood and I'm always happy to see the comments come in, and respond to them!

For the briefest of seconds, the faintest of voices echoed through my ears. Watery images of faces I faintly recognized. The wind-chime voice of my mother's singing and dad's obnoxious laughter, caroling along with her. The memory was gone as my eyes opened and the prick of tears trailed after it with a shuddering and empty sigh.

"You're awake." An incredulous voice reached my ears. A hard blink brought Solas' face into focus. His cold hand came to my cheek, a gentle thumb brushing away whatever tears had managed to form. With a tremble, my Marked hand reached up and held his to my skin, relishing in the affirmation of reality.

"I'm awake," I whispered, astonished. "Jesus… _Jesus._ "

"Shh," Solas brought his other hand to my vacant cheek and held my face firmly. "None of that. Let's not go into the throws of panic just yet."

"I'm in shock, asshole." I grumbled weakly, instinctively bringing my right hand to over his other one. What a picture we'd make, I was sure. The warmth of his palms was reassuring, but nothing I did stopped the flow of tears from coming. Stress and shock threw my body into a chaotic trainwreck of signals.

"Perhaps not in so much shock if your foulmouthed nature hasn't failed you." Solas teased, patting my face lightly and letting go. He gripped my shoulders to pull me up into a sit when he realized I was attempting to lift my weight from the cot.

"It's a coping mechanism." I gasped, holding my side as pain flared up through my ribs and heart. "Fucking, _Jesus_ — what happened?"

"Where?" Solas deadpanned, crossing his arms and leaning back on his small stool. "To your ribs? There are four broken. To your arm? Bruised, lacerated, and possibly infected. To your —"

"Aye, aye, aye!" I raised a hand and waved him off, coughing with a wince. "Alright, I got it, I got it. Christ." The silence settled between us, his eyes dark as he scanned me over, searching for something. My weight adjusted in the cot and I leaned into my palms at the edge of the bed, glancing around.

"Where are we?" I asked quietly. "This… how far are we from Haven? How many got out?"

Solas glared at me, sharp and pained. "... I suppose a good leader would be concerned with the state of her people. Most of us survived, but a good many were lost in the battle. Most of the civilians are gone."

"Ah… shit." My trembling hand came up to my forehead, pushing my hair back.

"As for Haven, it is demolished, buried in the avalanche. There is no return." Solas cut his words short, an angry, underlying buzz in his demeanor. No words formed in my throat, I couldn't think of what to say to his statement. _How many is that dead? Did we keep a roster? A list? Who's gone? Do we tell families?_

"Christ," I breathed, both hands coming up to my face and rubbing along my cheeks roughly. "What about…?"

"The three are alive." Solas ticked off his fingers, "Cullen, Leliana, and Josephine orchestrated the retreat rather efficiently, considering the circumstances. The others of your troupe, alive, in various states of recovery."

The relief I felt was bittersweet. Those closest to me had survived, all of them, and yet I couldn't quite bring myself past the guilt that gurgled at the bottom of my bowels. So many others had died, killed in the fight or in the avalanche, those left behind because we couldn't find them, or because we —

"Stop." Solas' hand came forward and rested over my knee. A sharp look brought my eyes up to his gaze, the line of his mouth firm and jowls tight. "I see the grave you dig, Jaime, and you _must_ stop."

"Solas," I started, but he turned his head with eyes closed, the other hand raised to silence me.

"No. Listen to me." Solas commanded in a low and level voice. "You cannot — _cannot_ allow yourself to fall into guilt over things you could not possibly control. Look at me." I did, startled at the spark of his demand, nervously twitching my knee under his hand.

"Do not pity these people, do not insult them so." He continued, his hand gripping my knee with a squeeze. "These people came to you, to aide you, to assist you — do not allow your guilt to taint their sacrifice. They chose their path. Honor that. Find strength in their belief that victory was inevitable."

"It almost wasn't," I protested softly, "we almost all died in the depths of Haven because —"

"And yet we _didn't_." He countered heavily, pushing at my knee slightly. "Do not confuse what _could_ have been with what _happened_. The future is judged by the decisions we choose to follow. It cares nothing for what never existed. Do you understand?"

"... I understand." Reluctantly, I did. Logically, I knew what he was getting at, because allowing myself to just be consumed by the failure of losing so many lives would do nothing to bring them back. It didn't stop the black bile from rising in my throat, though.

"So then, to the important issue." He leaned away from me again, ramrod straight as he pointed to my left hand. " _That_ has returned. Was it the doing of this new abomination?" The Mark glowed between us as I brought it up close to my chest, the edges of my hand tattered and torn, the scratches and blood cleaned. I frowned.

"No bandage?" I asked quietly. Solas stiffened before he sighed and reached over to another nearby crate, rummaging through it before he pulled out a short strip of cloth. Carefully, he placed it in my palm and after a few seconds, the cloth material disappeared into my palm.

I immediately held my palm out like a grenade.

"Holy fuck, what the fuck," I exclaimed with a strangled voice, my gaze shooting to Solas for explanation.

"I am as — concerned." He struggled for a word, because I could hear the rest of it on the tip of his tongue; _confused, baffled, alarmed_. This was No Bueno and the idea of a black-hole in my hand soared rapidly to the front of my thoughts, old conversations long forgotten.

"Solas," I snipped desperately, unsure of what else to say.

"It has not been harmful to anyone, though Cole has been wary of it." Solas clarified with a hard look to me. "Mother Giselle had been able to heal you and clean you without much trouble. Adan could see no other wound aside from the tearing in your palm."

"Will you _listen_ to what you just said?" I snapped with a low voice, my brows pinned over my eyes. " _Tears?_ What do you mean — fucking hell, it must have been from Corypheus."

Solas' rounded on the name sharply. " _Who?_ Give me the name again, Jaime."

"Corypheus, that's what he called himself." I debated telling him Varric's story, but that would have to be reserved for later, right now what mattered was the immediate impact of the information. "According to him, this here in my hand is an Anchor. He was using it to get — to get into the Fade."

A deadly, brackish silence suddenly swallowed us. The kind of silence you feel when a parent found your secret stash, the kind of silence where a friend looked at you and thought _how fucking dare you_ and to be honest, it made my hand curl away from him, my body slanting to one side as if to escape him.

"He did," Solas bit every word from his mouth, "did he tell you _how_?" Carefully, I cherry-picked my words. Wholly was I unwilling to bring the wrath of Solas upon my head, regardless of it being my fault or not.

"Not — not that I can recall." No time for teasing, as much as I wanted to. _A dragon had kinda been an important piece for a while there, if you can remember_ , but that was better left unsaid. Solas looked impatient with his twitching ears. "He said he spent years, or something like that… to make it."

"Truly." Solas answered icily. "And he was going to use it to enter the Fade? Why?"

"That, that you might want to ask Varric." I muttered uneasily, feeling as if I was throwing my dwarven-brother under the figurative Bus Of Blame. "I — I only recognized the name because Varric told me this story about how Hawke and Bethany —"

"I know the story," Solas interrupted impatiently.

I blinked, blindsided. "You… you do?"

"I have heard it, once upon a distant night at camp." Solas waved off my surprise, charging onward. "This is the same Corypheus, then? Varric will not be pleased."

"No fucking shit." I announced blandly. "I don't think _anyone_ is gonna be happy about an ancient evil rising from hell to drag us into Armageddon." We were in a fucking video game from the way that sounded flying out of my mouth. A sigh came up with my hand as my fingers pinched the bridge of my nose.

"It fails to explain how this item came to exist in your palm." Solas prompted, arms crossing over his chest. Tentatively, my palms pressed together. The Fade didn't suck me into a vortex and no imminent danger surrounded us from the contact. No screams, no tendrils. No monsters.

"I don't know." I answered honestly, looking at my pressed hands. "He was trying to rip it out of my palm with this orb-thing he had. It was shaped about the size of my head, with grooves all through it. It glowed red."

Solas stared at me, deeply.

"... you're scaring me, man." I rubbed my hands together nervously. "But, yeah. He tried to yank it out, and when he couldn't, he told me I spoiled it with my _stumbling_. Asshole."

"I see." Solas said softly, his body deflating slightly. "That certainly changes things. There is a matter I must research, in what is left of my effects. Should I find anything, I shall make you aware." He was nearly out of the tent with a turn of his heel before he stopped, fingers in the folds of the flaps.

"For what it is worth," he finished softly, "I am very glad you survived, Jaime." He couldn't have seen my nod or the tears that dribbled down to my chin, and it was a relief he didn't. Solas had already comforted me enough. With some effort, I gingerly inhaled and was careful of my tender ribs. Wobbly knees tried to help me stand, only to crumble with my weight. I stayed in the cot, hands gripped along the edges.

There was rustling feet outside of my tent and soon after, Cullen's face appeared between the folds. _Solas must have told him I'm awake_. He swallowed hard at the sight of me and hesitated before stepping inside. He was quiet as he puttered around for a place to sit, taking Solas' stool near me after a few seconds.

"Hi," I croaked, and then winced at the sound of my voice. "You doing okay?"

"Don't you dare," Cullen muttered weakly, shaking his head. His eyes glanced at me briefly, long enough for the bags under his eyes to be apparent. How long had I been asleep if he had bags under his eyes, worse than normal? I waited as what he wanted to say warred with his mouth and his expression changed several times as he stared at the floor.

"Hey, grouchy." My foot swung out lightly and tapped the toes of his boot. "We made it."

"Yes." Cullen focused on me, his hands clenched over his knees. "We did. Barely, but we did. How — how are you feeling? Adan mentioned your injuries and…" He trailed off with a small tip of his head toward me, his eyes roaming over the blooming bruises that no doubt smothered my skin.

"I… honest? No clue how I feel." I replied gently, my fingers laced together between my knees. "Kinda hard to feel sorry for yourself when you've got the death of a lot of people on your head." He was silent and I didn't press him. His mouth worked hard again, lips pale with pressure.

"Herald, I…" He stuttered to a stop. A exhale shot through him and his hands came up to his hair, running through the curls angrily, his legs launching him onto his feet and he paced slightly in the small confides of the tent.

"I don't know what we would have done," his voice cracked, his back turned to me, "I don't know if we could have done what we have if you hadn't…" He fumbled with his words, hands useless as they fidgeted through the air, grasping at nothing.

"Cullen, just…" My words caught in my throat, unsurprisingly choked by sympathy, watching my Commander fall apart in front of me. There would be no recovery if even one of my central command just collapsed. Though, to see him now, pacing and running his hands through his hair, it wasn't a surprise the amount of pain he was going through.

He, like the others, had lost a great deal of people. His soldiers, his people that he left behind to give me time, the ones lost in the snow, or the others that fell when the first wave hit. I wasn't the only one shouldering the weight of dead bodies. Despite being a soldier himself, death didn't come any easier to him, not in such a massive sweep. Selfishly, I took relief in the fact that I wasn't alone with that responsibility.

"Cullen." I tried again, catching his attention. Once he turned to me, I patted the cot. He hesitated and I patted it harder. "Come here, hardhead, or it's gonna get messy." A strange, strangled gurgle of a laugh tumbled through his lips, a touch of mania to it. He shifted around the stool and came to the cot, tentatively sitting next to me, inches apart.

I leaned into his pauldrons, and frighteningly swift, he slumped against my weight. We sat in the quiet, the gentle sound of bodies walking across the snow outside, hushed voices murmuring to each other. A quick glance at his face and I found the Commander staring at the ground.

His voice was low, "It was madness, after you left. Leliana had — she had collected most of her people and already started the evacuation. Most of the supplies," he gestured lamely toward the crates in my tent, ripped open with medical supplies tossed about.

"... contingency plans." I murmured, gasping slightly with an inhale, my ribs flickering with firey pain.

"Aye. She, I don't think she knew what was coming, but she's always ready." Cullen sighed and ran a hand down his face, pulling at his chin. "The Chargers lived up to their name, they wrangled a few brontos with halters we had of dead horses, got us through the worst of it."

_I'll have to check on them, make sure they all made it out. And Bull…_

"What happened after — after I left?" I asked, tentatively fearful of the story I would get.

"We managed to go out through this blocked off pathway from the Chantry." Cullen started, holding his hands between his knees, looking up to the ceiling of the tent. "Leliana and I stayed behind as the Chargers took the mass of our people through the overgrown path. Roderick was kept in the lead by that mage." He glanced at the flaps of the tent, as if our mystical friend would appear upon command.

He shook his head, "We… heard, the explosion, the — when the dragon landed, we could feel it. By the time I ran back through the Chanty, your three were already at the door. They said they couldn't… get to you?" His eyes turned to search my face, wondering if I had been truly cut off or willingly abandoned.

"Yeah, the dragon had covered the only way up to the Chantry," I confirmed with a nod, reassuring my Commander. "They couldn't reach me. I'm glad they ran back. I was — I dunno. I don't think I really had any time to be worried."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Cullen's shoulders slumped gently. "There was… we could hear your screams."

"Christ." I swore under my breath, ducking my chin to my neck. "That must have been bad."

He stared at me for a long moment, and quietly replied, "It was. Leliana managed to convince Iron Bull and Blackwall to retreat, but they didn't look like they wanted to. Maker, _I_ didn't want to."

"I don't blame you," I murmured to him, knowing it helped little if at all to hear it, but I had to, "there was nothing you could have done for me. The only reason I wasn't killed instantly was because he wanted this." My Marked palm flashed between us briefly, the glow bright and blinking before I held it again with my other hand.

"He?" Cullen questioned with surprise. "The Elder One, you mean?"

My hand brought my fingers to press into the corners of my eyes. "Let's… hold on that, please. I don't want to tell the story ten different times. Where is everyone?"

"Cassandra and Leliana are taking tally of all who remain." Cullen promptly answered, clearing his throat. "Josephine is with Varric and Adan. They're counting supplies."

"Okay." I breathed out, wincing hard and holding onto my left side, ribs burning. "I need you to roundup a War Table. We got some shit to discuss." He hesitated again, but beside me his body seemed to relax, his shoulders settling straight and his head slightly higher. It felt good to bring someone else a little bit of security.

"Yes, Herald. As soon as possible?" He asked with a heavy glance over my figure.

I winced, "Maybe? I'm surprised we survived the night."

"The night?" Cullen blinked at me, surprised. His face paled, "Herald – it's been nearly a week."

" _What?_ " I almost threw up on his boots, calamity rolling through my stomach. "What do you fucking mean it's been a week? _A week since what?_ "

"The night we fled from Haven, and then two days of searching the area to find you – a half a day's travel here – your healing… what happened to you?" Cullen asked brokenly, eyes wide with pained sympathy. My head shook and with my eyes closed, I raised a hand to shush him.

"Don't – don't worry about it. Not now." My brain was still reeling from the timeline. Serious injury or extreme shock probably kept me alive through my efforts to get here, plus whatever time I spent asleep or healing. My stomach would be starving, soon. My limbs were going to be on fire from pain in a few hours if no one had given me any medicines.

_But most importantly, how did I survive all that time alone and unconscious?_

"... very well." Cullen relented, though his expression told me it was only just. "I'll see about gathering the council. For now, rest. Solas mentioned he would tell the others, so… be prepared."

"Noted," I said quietly, my gaze still on the ground. The Commander hesitated a little longer before he sighed and walked out of the tent. My eyes closed again and warm tears slipped down my cheeks as one palm came up to catch my forehead as my head fell forward. Gently, I tipped over to my side and rolled back into the cot, silent as my sorrow rocked through my shoulders and chest.

_A week._

I could have died in that cavern. Demons or animals could have found me, Venatori or other some such could have snooped far enough through the snow and killed me where I fell. My palms wiped at my cheeks, the bright glow of the Mark flashing with each pass. _Would if I could rip this fucking thing out of my hand._

"That would be painful, if you did." Cole's gentle voice floated over to me. My bones jumped under my skin and I looked up, spying the spirit in the far corner of the tent, crouching on the crates. A hard sniff cleared my nose and I attempted to sit up again. Cole's form disappeared from the crate and came to the stool, his hand on my hip.

"No, don't." He held me down, his multi-facet eyes flickering over my face. "Stay still. Pained, panicked, petrified – you're hurting. I can't help this time, but you shouldn't make it worse."

"I thought," another sniff, quieter this time with another wipe to my nose with my wrist, "I thought Solas said you were worried about my Mark?"

"Worried?" Cole shook his head, kneeling into the ground, his arm resting on my side. "Distracted, distressed, disturbed. It's new now, it asks for more but it listens, it only takes what it is given. I don't want to give it anything."

Weakly, I laughed. "Like the cloth disappearing in my palm? What's gonna happen if I hold a weapon?"

"You can control it, now." Cole explained patiently, his eyes dashing to my hand on the pillow. "It's yours, no longer a foe, but not a friend. Not an open door, but a stranger knocking at the door."

"So… It's only going to work now if I ask it to work?" I shifted in the cot, facing him at a third turn. His arm came away from my body, huddling next to his side, but he remained kneeling close, his hat obscuring his face from me.

"Something changed. It's more, now. It knows better. It will still – take from you, but not as much, because now it will take from others, too." His head tilted and he fingered a few rocks in the dirt under my cot, distracted.

"Will it hurt you?" I asked quietly, worried.

He shook his head quickly. "No. Unless you want to hurt me?"

"Never," I breathed, an unfathomable ache twisting in my chest, "I couldn't do that to you after what you've done for me."

A small smile peeked from under the brim of his hat. "Then it won't hurt me. Just when you were sleeping, your memories made it angry, so it was swallowing everything it could."

"My memories… Cole, could you see those?" I reached out and pulled up at his hat lightly, catching his eye.

"Not clearly. They're stolen away, muffled and buried, but not erased. Not all of them." He paused, the one eye I could see considered me and he looked down with a twinge of shame, humming something.

I recognized the song, and chuckled. "My mom used to sing that."

"I like it." Cole answered readily, his hands in the dirt. "I couldn't see her. She's bright. Sunlight, sunbursts, and sunsets. Warm and happy, here and gone and back again."

"Yeah," I replied, fresh tears in my eyes. "Yeah, she is. I miss her."

"You are a lot like her." Cole murmured into the quiet tent, glancing up at me fully. "Not bright. Not like her. But always. In and out, constantly going, running, changing. Clouds against the light, here and gone, bright and dark."

I huffed, pacified somehow. "... thank you, Cole."

"I didn't do anything." Cole answered, and in the next blink he was gone. The silence settled in my tent like falling dust, but there was less of a taste of desperation in it. My body shivered in the loneliness and I hurried to snatch my blanket back. My head fell back into the small straw pillow and in a few breaths, I slipped back into sleep.

-0-

Cottonmouth greeted me when I awoke, my throat about as sandy as my eyes. Hard blinks did nothing to help clear up my vision, so I sat up half-blind and searching with a flailing hand. A hard grip swallowed my fingers and it took me seconds to realize a few of the fingers were missing.

"Bull," I breathed, trying to look up at him. The fires from outside must have been burnt low or the night had gotten deeper, because I could barely see him in the dimness of my tent.

"Heya, Boss." He greeted me, voice heavy either from sleep or consideration. The faint scrape of fabric reached me, the tips of his horns most likely catching the roof of the tent. My other hand reached out as I sat up and found his bicep, the muscle twitching under my palm.

"Fuck, you're real." I swallowed my choked words, head bowing. "Christ, Bull, I'm –"

"If you're about to tell me you're sorry, I'm knocking you back out." He rumbled, amused. "How you feeling, Boss?"

"Like something shit me out, dude." I murmured into the darkness. His arm shook slightly under my hand as he chuckled. The grip he had on my other hand loosened and he used it to shift away slightly before reaching for my legs and helping me adjust into a full, upright sit.

"Well, I didn't get to see you before you were quarantined to the tent, but rumors say the same." He teased, releasing his contact on me. "Guess it's a good thing I waited until I _couldn't_ see it."

"You're an asshole, did you just come here to make fun of me?" Relief flooded me, my desperation easing with each passing sentence. I was floored and adored the man in front of me for treating me like everything was normal, that I hadn't just nearly died, that the world hadn't just gone to shit.

"Absolutely." Bull retaliated, his words practically painting the sight of his grin in my mind's eye. "Can't have you getting all high and mighty now because you survived a shitstorm of insane proportions."

"Right." I snapped, fighting a smile. "Let's not give the Chantry more to denounce me with, is that it?"

"Considering that you faced off with a self-proclaimed god, and then lived to tell about it," I could hear him rub at the stubble of his chin, "yeah, they're probably going to try and exorcise you."

"Does that exist here?" I muttered with a shake of my head. My hand moved from his bicep to the edge of his shoulder, my fingertips pulling at his skin lightly. Obligingly and without much more prompting, he shifted again, closer. The heat of his torso warmed my shins and knees, my palm fully resting in the curve of his shoulder.

My teeth clenched and I gripped it briefly.

"Deep breath." Bull ordered quietly. I followed along and exhaled after a few seconds. "There you go. Do you want to talk about it?"

I hesitated, my hand slipping slightly from his shoulder. "... I don't know. I don't know how."

"That's fair." He murmured. He exhaled softly, legs spreading out, his knee touching my foot on the ground. "From the sounds of it, you almost died. _Again_. Really need to learn to be a thrill-seeker without the death, Boss."

"They don't really provide safety nets for dragons or demons, you know." I retorted softly, pushing at his shoulder with my fingertips. A rumble went up his chest and his index finger flicked at my knee.

"Yes they do," he answered, his words conveying worry and warmth all at once, "it's called The Iron Bull." My heart took a dive through my ribs and into my stomach before it swelled back up under my throat. The grip from his shoulder had slipped back to his bicep and my fingers trembled against his skin.

"I'll remember to take you along next time." I struggled through the words, solace running through my blood, warming my ears and neck down to the small of my back with rolling embers.

"How about you just take me _every_ time?" He teased, poking at my knee again. "Because according to Adan, you look like a broken penis."

"Wh-what the fuck?" I sputtered, laughing, my ribs protesting angrily with fire and brimstone. "Fu-fuck, I hate you – fucker, _ow!_ "

Bull's laugh echoed through the tent, and despite the pain I was in, I was at peace.

-0-

It was morning when Mother Giselle came to find me wiggling from a nightmare in my cot. Blearily I awoke to her gentle prodding, her hands soft against my bare skin as she bathed me and re-dressed my bandages around my chest. Most of the time I spent wincing, breathing gingerly with four broken ribs, binds keeping them in place.

My arms were covered in bruises and lacerations. My left arm looked like something out of a horror movie; webbed and shiny pale skin left behind after burns healed. Nervously, I glanced at the rest of my figure as Mother Giselle prepped easier clothes for me to wear. My torso had a ghastly hematoma that twisted from my hip, up along my back and to my shoulder and neck.

"I feel like a stump," I grumbled quietly to Mother Giselle, "I can't move."

"The body needs to heal, so it does its best to keep you still." Mother Giselle murmured, rubbing a salve into my skin behind my neck and in between my shoulder blades. "We are grateful that despite your bruising, your actual injuries are minor."

"I'm alive, that's what matters." I answered, straightening my back. She glanced at me briefly, humming as she moved away and picked up the spare clothes.

"Alive, yes. But please remember that the mind needs to heal as much as the body." She replied, her hands carefully maneuvering my arms around into the tunic sleeves. The pants were trickier, my knees were rocks and every pull of my muscles burned with hundreds of tiny fire-ants.

"Adan will have your poultices ready soon." Her fingers ran through my hair and combed through the damp strands, braiding them down my back. "He was not sure how much to give you, but now that you are relatively coherent, we will be able to manage your pain better."

"Yeah, I appreciate it." I mumbled thankfully. She helped me to my feet with a strong grip, my knees shaking as I stepped into my boots. Stepping out into the sunlight hurt, the light spearing my vision and with a hiss, I ducked my head and marched with Mother Giselle to the council tent.

Soldiers milled around me, hands full with supplies or tents, blankets and lanterns. All of their faces looked gaunt and weary, drawn pale and hollow by the situation. Morale had shot low in the last few days, it appeared, and I wasn't sure how we were going to bring it back up. I saw none of my companions on the walk to the tent, but that was perhaps for the better.

Josephine's gasp was the first thing to greet me as I entered. My Hydra and Cassandra stood from their chairs and I waved them off once I took a moment to bid farewell to Mother Giselle. Cullen brought up the only chair with a back for me to use and gratefully I fell into it, wincing as my weight shot pain up my spine. _That was stupid._

"Herald?" Cassandra prompted.

I swallowed, laughing weakly. "Stupidity. I forget I'm broken."

No one else shared my humor. Glancing at them, it was clear stress had done the worst to them. Cullen and Cassandra shared deep bags under their eyes with strained mouths and heavy chins. Josephine's hair was unkempt, her clothes wrinkled and dull. Leliana seemed the most drained of them all with gaunt cheeks and a lame brow over her eyes; those same eyes were low and lightless.

"Let's start from the top, shall we?" I prompted them back into the world of the living. Whatever depressive spell had captured them was snapped. Cullen cleared his throat and shared a look with Leliana.

"Most of our agents had fallen back, once the first group was lost." She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze avoiding mine. "I awaited more information, but the disturbance had gone silent. Then, the drums and battle-bells. Oswald came back, but _only_ him of his group."

"It was enough." Cullen interjected, watching Leliana slip into a dark scowl. Cullen turned to me, wincing as his hands pulled at his thigh plate. "It gave us a bit of time to know the mass that was approaching, but not why, or what demands they were making. We didn't know they were mages until our friend appeared at the gate."

"Did anyone get his name?" I asked my group, glancing between them.

Josephine nodded, "Yes, Herald. Altus Dorian Pavus, of House Pavus in Qarinus, Tevinter Imperium."

"You're shitting me," I breathed in surprised, " _Tevinter?_ A legit Tevinter mage? What the fuck is he doing out here?"

"Hmph," Josephine's nose turned up a bit, "he didn't say, only stated he wanted to speak to you directly when the chance arose."

"Great." I exhaled, rubbing at my knee out of nervousness. _A Vint? What the hell?_ "I'll see about getting to chat him up later, but right now, he's on the back of the stove. Keep an eye on him, will you?"

"Noted," Cullen and Cassandra answered simultaneously. Leliana nodded quietly.

"Next?" I asked, my gaze on Cullen to continue.

"Well, from the point of their arrival to you leaving the Chantry for the diversion, we know." Cullen fidgeted again with his armor, hands tight on the edges of the plate. "You left, Roderick led us out behind the Chantry to the path he mentioned. Leliana was already there."

"Luck, unfortunately." Leliana murmured sourly, arms tight across her chest. "We had kept the bulk of our supplies down in the dungeons of the Chantry for the celebration, to keep them safe. In the end, it served us better, as we were able to get them out quickly."

"Cullen and I assisted with assuring our population managed to escape, but not all of them did." Cassandra interrupted heatedly with raised hackles. She growled, her hands balling into fists over her thighs. "A good portion of our people stayed behind in the first part of the battle."

"Civilians," Josephine lamented quietly, "They were the first to take up arms, and of course… the first to fall." A headache was forming behind my eyes and my right hand came up to pinch the bridge of my nose quickly, hoping to avoid a full migraine.

"Do we know who and how many?" I murmured behind my hand.

"Not yet." Leliana and Cullen answered, both stiff and uncomfortable.

Cullen sighed. "We'll have those names for you once we manage to count heads. As it is, we're doing our best just to stay alive out here."

"I got ya." I soothed him with a small wave of the same hand that came to my nose. My ribs protested and I inhaled sharply at the pain. My voice tightened briefly, "So then all there is left is my end of the story?"

"If you wouldn't mind." Cassandra graced me with a worried frown.

"Well, to start, someone's gonna need to talk to Varric." I gave Leliana a pointed look for the brief second she made eye contact with me. "Because he's got the other half of the story. Abridged version; Corypheus is The Elder One, old magister from ancient Tevinter."

The room went colder than the snow outside and it was tempting to open the flap and allow _some_ semblance of warmth to seep through. Cullen and Leliana's eyes had gone deathly dark and Cassandra was vibrating next to me. Josephine held her composure, but her skin had paled around her mouth.

"Odd," Cassandra growled, "that we would have a Tevinter magister already in our company."

"Well now," I held a hand out to stop her, "let's not jump to conclusions just yet. All the facts first, okay?"

"Agreed." Leliana seconded. "Continue, Herald."

I raised my Marked hand, "He's after this thing. Apparently it's actually a magical artifact that he was preparing for years to use as a gateway into the Fade. Somehow, I ended up getting it stuck in my palm." Cassandra's shoulders stiffened just beyond my peripheral vision and I winced; _ah, right. Maker sent, probably not._

"I don't imagine he explained how it got there or how it works?" Cullen replied ruefully.

"Not on my life." I snorted, closing my fingers around the Mark, letting the light flicker through my fingertips. "Solas says he might have some idea, but he's out on the count for that one."

"Corypheus failed to reclaim this artifact, as your hand still possesses its power and you are alive." Leliana deduced, gesturing to my hand with a tip of her chin.

"It's ruined, according to him, yeah. Somehow its connection to me spoiled it, but I got nothing to compare — wait." I hesitated, my memories flashing through my mind like jumbled puzzle pieces. "I'm forgetting — he had something similar, I think, but he was holding it, in his hand. It must have been a pair..."

"A similar object?" Leliana questioned, leaning forward in her seat. "How could you know?"

"He was using it to open my hand to try and get the Anchor out." I muttered darkly. My right thumb pressed into the Mark of my hand and rubbed against the chasm roughly, attempting to relieve an itch. "Round, about the size of my head, with grooves all over the surface. It looked glossy, but I wouldn't bet on it being glass."

"Hmm." Leliana tapped her chin. "I'll have to talk to Solas about this, see what speculations he has."

"Beyond that," Cullen redirected us, a hard gaze pinned on me, "how did you survive the avalanche? We could see it from the mountainside, it had consumed everything."

I sighed and rubbed at my forehead. "I almost didn't. When the avalanche started, I was already running. I tripped and fell into a cave system under Haven, I think."

"The mines." Josephine nodded with a pained smile. "Yes, we had abandoned them because they were hazardous after a few collapses."

"I saw those. I —" How much was I going to tell them? If I wasn't willing to tell Bull, or Solas, I couldn't see myself telling the room at large about my experience in the cold cave, alone and in a desperate depression. I swallowed, "... From what I knew, I had only been down there a night, I was unconscious from the fall."

Cullen and Josephine winced, but everyone's gaze followed the length of my bruises over my face and neck, hidden away into the mouth of my tunic. My shoulders shifted, a fidget working its way up from my stomach at the stares. My arms crossed over my chest, one hand holding onto the opposing elbow.

"So, when I came to, I — fixed myself up and walked out of the cave. This came back to life." I raised my hand, the Mark clear and bright in the dimness of the tent. "I got outside into the storm and then just walked."

"Walked?" Cassandra took a quick look at me, bewildered. "But, we had a storm sometime during that week!"

"I know." I deadpanned with a glance at her. "It's a miracle I didn't get frostbite."

"Why didn't you stay in the caves until it was over?" Cullen asked, just as confused.

"With demons?" I replied, my brow raised high into my hairline. "There were demons there, because of this thing on my hand. I couldn't wait there with no weapon. Frostbite seemed easier." This was not the conversation I wanted to have, I didn't want to talk about the nightmare of that whole experience, or the fucked up emotions that came from it.

I pushed on, "In any case, I got out, walked my way here, and then you found me. End of story." My group eyed with me with varying levels of disbelief and suspicion, but the title of Herald was still firmly on my head, so the questions that rolled behind their eyes remained silent.

"Quite a tale." Cassandra broke the silence with clipped words, turning away from me. "But we are still in the same position as before, with an unknown enemy, with his whereabouts just as unclear."

"He's controlling that dragon." I added, leaning back in my seat. "He probably gets around that way. We know he's a mage, at least, but we're going to need to follow up with Varric."

"We _needed_ Hawke." Cassandra growled, sidelining my input, but it seemed like her sharp words were directed to Leliana. "Had he been here as we originally planned, we'd have a better understanding of this creature."

Leliana frowned, twitching a bit with her chin. "There is no guarantee that Hawke would know this Corypheus better than Jaime would. By the sounds of it, Varric is our best lead."

"He won't answer us truthfully." Cassandra retaliated with heat, straightening in her chair. The three of us that remained apart from the conversation, leaned away, surprised by the display. "Our last attempt to find the Champion brought us to nothing, because that dwarf is so _intent_ on protecting the man than seeing the greater issue!"

"Cassandra," Leliana nailed her with a hard stare, "now is not the time. We'll —" Cassandra stood from her seat and twisted around me to storm out of the tent. My butt nearly bounced from my chair at her swift departure. Confused, I turned to my remaining Heads.

"I will handle it," Leliana dismissed my confusion, "then, from this point forward, I would deduce that our priorities are shelter, food, and then people."

"Yes." I answered, nodding with uncertainty. "Let me know if anything comes up, or if we can reach out to the Hinterlands or Orlais for a place to stay."

"I shall inform you at once, Herald." Josephine answered quietly, her hands twitching to make notes, but absent her normal parchment and quill.

I stood with another nod, "See that you do. I'm going to head out and make the rounds before I pass out again."

"Let us know if you require anything, Herald." Cullen called after me, his voice lost within the tent as I exited into the snow. A heavy sigh escaped me, my back was on fire and my chest down to my hips cramped from pain. My eyes closed tightly and with another exhale, I trudged out into the snow.


	6. ACT II: Shelter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Homeward Bound to Skyhold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize to all of you for keeping this chapter for so long. I had a moment a few weeks (months now?) ago where I ended up losing my laptop, my phone, my bag all on the light-rail getting home. I'm safe and unharmed, but losing those valuable items has put a huge restriction on my writing and access to the webs. Thank you for your understanding.
> 
> No guarantee when the next chapter will come up, as I only managed to find 2 or 3 other pre-written chapters, the rest will be typed up at work on spare time. I appreciate your patience with the matter.
> 
> Thank you for coming back.

"What would you have me tell them? This isn't what we asked them to do!"

_The fuck?_   _Why is Cullen yelling?_

It took a few moments to find control of my hands to bring them to my face, rubbing at my crusty eyes as comprehension fought for dominance over my grogginess. A hard rub of the heels of my palms blurred my vision, but allowed my eyes to open. I found myself staring at the ceiling of a tent and the memories of the last few hours swallowed me.

"Oh." I breathed, shuddering. " _Fuck_."

"We cannot simply ignore this! We must find a way!"

_There's Cassandra_. I winced, her voice was closer than Cullen's, or she was just louder. Like a hungover fool, I shifted my hips on the cot and tried to search for my companions, wondering what triggered their argument  _this_  time. Once up and sitting in my cot, my council was found by the campfire near my new tent, huddled amongst themselves, snarling into each others faces.

Well. Cullen and Cassandra were snarling. Leliana and Josephine seemed to be the ones holding onto their leashes.

"And who put  _you_  in charge? We need a consensus, or we have nothing!" Cullen snapped, gesturing with a wave of his hand to the camp around him.

"Please, we must use reason!" Josephine interjected, holding her hands out between Cassandra and Cullen. "Without the infrastructure of the Inquisition, we're hobbled —"

"That can't come from nowhere!" Cullen barked back, frustration winning out over manners.

"She didn't say it could!" Leliana retaliated, the first time I had ever heard the Spymaster raise her voice. I leaned back in my cot to bring my legs over the side, quiet and invisible.  _Things must be dire if Leliana's got to shouting, too._

"Enough!" Cassandra commanded, glaring at the small party, "This is getting us nowhere!"

"Well, we're agreed on that much," Cullen spat sarcastically, detaching himself from the rest of the council and running an angry hand through his hair. The rest of the group watched him go before Cassandra threw her hands up into the air, annoyed.

"Shh," a hand came to rest on my knee, startling me to look up and finding Mother Giselle next to me, "you need rest."

"Holy shit," I whispered at her, catching my breath, "you scared the crap outta me."

Mother Giselle chuckled, patting my knee. "Of all the things you've seen, I would not place myself in the most frightening."

"W-well, that's fair." I shared her chuckle, weakly. My fingers scratched at the base of my skull, digging into my hairline. "How long have they been at that?"

"A few hours since you laid to rest." Mother Giselle nodded over to them, her hand slipping from my knee with a sigh. "But they have that luxury, thanks to you. Our enemy is still missing, and with time to doubt, we are now turning to blame. Infighting may threaten us as much as this Corypheus."

I gave her a hard blink, confused. My hand paused. "How…?"

"Ah." Her full lips tugged into a sad smile. "The Commander had shared the information with the soldiers. He deemed it necessary we know what we are up against."

"That makes sense." I muttered, my hand dropping from my head. Another pause, a dire question at the tip of my tongue, wariness and fear making my tongue heavy with hesitation. "Do we have any word from other cities about possibly sheltering us?"

She shook her head, hands folded in her lap. "We are not sure where  _we_  are, so any other cities are reluctant to pull the resources we need to travel to a new home."

"Damn," I murmured breathlessly, running my hands over my face, knees pressed together to keep myself from shaking. No one would take us with a shadow of an enemy over our head. The Inquisition couldn't be trusted to actually hold its own after that battle. How much of the mage forces did we actually smother in the snow? How many of them survived? Did Corypheus get through the avalanche, or did he die in it?  _Fuck, there's so many blind spots._

"That, or you are believed to be dead, and no one is looking to risk their city for mere foot-soldiers." Mother Giselle added, her brows high on her forehead as she read my thoughts. "Or without Haven, we are thought helpless and left to die. Or the enemy is near and girds for another attack." She, like me, shared the same train of thought: any number of things could have happened to keep us safe, but there was no guarantee it was going to be enough in the long run.

My attention returned to my scattered council, Cassandra had taken to a table, scrolls of information thrown open in her haste to find an answer. Cullen stood away, shadowed in the tents with his arms crossed as he spoke quietly to one of the soldiers. Leliana and Josephine shared a spot by the fire, their voices muffled between them. My other companions had disappeared into the folds of what remained of our people, helping where they could or licking their own wounds.

"We need to do something," I murmured into the air, "we can't just sit around and wait for someone to save us."

Mother Giselle considered me with a hum. "Our leaders struggle because of what we survivors witnessed. We saw our defender stand," she glanced at me with a sad smile, "... and fall."

"But I came back." I replied gently, uncertain of her lecture.

She shook her head. "And that is just it. The more the enemy is beyond us, the more miraculous your actions appear. And the more our trials seem ordained." My hands gripped the edge of the cot, words spooled at the tip of my tongue, ready to spring the truth.  _Ordained_ we hardly were, but I hadn't yet noted a change in the Inquisition. The council may have decided to keep the secret of the Mark's origins.

_Damn it._

"That is hard to accept, no?" Mother Giselle prompted me quietly, ducking her chin to catch my eye. "What  _we_  have been called to endure? What  _we_ , perhaps, must come to believe?"

"... how much do you know?" I asked, guarding my reply. A knowing smile came to her lips and she shrugged a shoulder, the firelight playing across her face like fingers caressing her skin as she moved.

"Of Corypheus' attempt to assault the heavens? All of it." She turned her gaze back out to the camp, my shoulders slumped with relief. She huffed lightly, "Your council deemed it wiser to be honest than to continue on false pretenses. To allow the people to believe what they saw fit."

"That could come back to bite us," I scoffed and released the death grip on the cot, "fanatical belief is what got us here in the first place. Ours and that monster's."

She paused, her eyes studying me. "If we recall, scripture says magisters, Tevinter servants of the False Old Gods, entered the Fade to reach the Golden City, seat of the Maker."

"Mother —" I went to interrupt her, I didn't need another lecture on a religion that had started the mess. Mother Giselle's gentle and scarred hand rose from her lap to silence me, her expression softly patient. Quietly, I settled, my shoulders tucked close and my mouth shut.

"For their crime, they were cast out as Darkspawn." She continued evenly, her hand returning to her lap. "Their hubris is why we suffer Blight, and why the Maker turned from us." Her back straightened and for a moment, her voice was lost into the light of the fire, the shadows growing larger as the fire dimmed. A beat or so passed before she sighed.

"For me, Herald… If such is the claim of this Corypheus, he is a monster beyond imagining." Another pause, her jaw working to find her words and a cold sense of humility and shame curled at the bottom of my gut.  _Of course. This isn't just my nightmare. It's theirs, too. The faithful now know the reason for their abandonment… shit._

"All mankind continues to suffer for that sin." She brought her gaze back to me and weakly, my own rose to meet hers, my sense of self shrunk and wilted at having accidentally insulted the woman. A trembling smile graced her lips, "If even a shred of it is true, all the more reason to believe Andraste would choose someone to rise against him, no?"

_I can't just… shoot her down._

"I can understand that." I answered lamely. "But… we can't just — we can't just run on faith. We need more than that. Faith didn't save Haven. Faith didn't stop the mages. Faith —" Shame and anger bubbled under my lungs and I stood on shaky legs. I hated arguing with the faithful. I wanted to avoid arguing religion. I avoided it for a reason, because the theology made sense to me, but the  _belief_  did not.

My feet carried me out from the cover of the tent and I helped myself along with my hands pushing against the supports of the tent. The fire sparked and sputtered as a soldier placed more logs into the flames, illuminating the area. My council remained separated and avoidant, my own hopelessness returning at the sight of their withered wills and crumbling strength.

_It's all falling apart now._

I didn't even know where to start. I didn't know how to rebuild anything more sophisticated than a Jenga tower, and my graphic design skills built worlds from nothing up to the skies, but that couldn't be used to rebuild  _people_. Not real ones, anyway.

And this world had become  _extremely_  real to me.

Mother Giselle's voice rose up behind me, a haunting Cathedral's echo to her voice that reverberated through the snow and the walls of the rocks that hid us. A shudder ran through me, but I only half heard the words as she sang. She walked toward me and gently, she threaded her arm through mine and leaned into my side, her voice now vibrating into my ribs.

Leliana's voice followed, much to my surprise. Soon after, so did Cullen's voice. With Mother Giselle by my side, the soldiers and workers echoed the hymn and the music rang in my ears. They slowly approached and circled the fire at the center of the camp, a few of them saluted me or bowed their heads as they approached. Dumbfounded, I couldn't do much more than nod my head at them.

Not long after, the steady wave of Maryden's voice floated up through the words, followed quickly by Blackwall's deep thrum and Sera's gentle twittering voice. The sound of their voices had tears prickling the corners of my eyes and I raised my chin to keep them at bay. The gentle hymn soothed ragged throats and as it drifted to the end, the voices began to cheer and chatter with their newly lifted spirits.

In the blink of an eye, Mother Giselle had turned despair into hope.

"Faith is made stronger by facing doubt. Untested, it is nothing. Though my faith is different than yours, never forget that it was  _your_  faith that brought you back." A sharp glance of my gaze found her face, awestruck. She smiled at me and pulled away from my side, her hand found my wrist and brought my hand up to her face, kissing the edges of my knuckles. She drew away and wandered into the crowd, leaving me rolling with chaotic thoughts.

"A word?" Solas' sharp voice cut through my mind.

"Yes, please." I choked, scrambling to catch my thoughts and follow him. We ducked behind the tents and treaded the thick snow carefully. Solas, I was astounded to see, was still barefoot. I would have to bring that up with him later, my mind decided obnoxiously. Out from the camp we went and Solas brought us to the rounding edge of the slope with a metal torch and covering stuck up slantways from the ground.

Solas' hand drew close to it and as it passed, Veilfire sprung to life, glittering against the snow with its tendrils flickering high into the air. The blue light kept the atmosphere gentle and no true heat came from the light, but it was enough to settle my nerves as I stood by my friend. With his hands behind his back, Solas turned slightly to face me at a third of his profile, his mouth drawn tight.

"A wise woman," he began, "worth heeding. Her kind understand the moments that unify a cause. Or fracture it."

"Tell me about it," the snark comment flew from my mouth, unchecked. "We're not quite fanatical, but I feel a few more songs and we'll be prime."

Solas smirked. "We? You, perhaps, though of them all, I would wager  _you_  would be the last to lose your mind."

"You lost that wager, my friend." I joked, comfortable with the familiar tone of dialogue. A small chuckle escaped him and peaceful, comfortable silent rested between us. More than likely, Solas was offering me a moment to regain my bearings from being thrust into the spotlight as I had been with that hymn.

"Previously, I had promised to inform you if I found something that pertains to the orb that Corypheus used against you." Solas picked at my curiosity, leading my eyes to his face with the turn of his mouth. "In my efforts, I have found information that confirms the item in question is elven."

"What the shit?" I breathed, surprised. "How — did you find that out? What books did you save, my dude?"

"What matters now is that we can identify our enemy's weapon." Solas redirected me. A frown touched my face, it was mildly unlike Solas to pass up an opportunity to teach me something, but considering that the situation was dire, I let it go.  _Ask him later, mental note to self._

"Well, then what is it  _supposed_  to do?" I prompted instead, looking for a hole to wiggle information from him.

"It, like the orb that must have been absorbed into your hand, were foci, used to channel ancient magicks." He relaxed, his hands linked at the small of his back, his shoulders straighter with his gaze shifting from me to the Veilfire. "I have seen such things in the Fade, old memories of older magic."

_Not books, then. That makes sense._

"So then…" My mind ran over the definition of the word, hoping it proved similar to my English one. "He used it to assault the heavens, but we got a destroyed Temple of Sacred Ashes instead. A bomb, kinda?"

Solas snorted, leveling me with a heavy-side eye. "A fair deduction, though unrefined. The orb originally supported and empowered lesser spells, or served as beacons to help maintain the structure of a spell."

"So it could be used for anything, then?" I speculated, my old D&D mage coming up from the depths of my memories. "It didn't have a main job, only what you wanted it to do? Use enough magic and you can poke a hole through anything."

"Exactly." Solas nodded, satisfied with my addition. "Corypheus used the orb to open the Breach. Unlocking it must have caused the explosion that destroyed the Conclave."

"Holy fucker," I shut my eyes and rubbed the heel of my right palm into one of them, "that means he must have been there when it happened, unless you can leave it behind with a set time to activate?" Solas gave me another strange look, much like the one I witnessed when I first mentioned the nightmare situation I had been in with the monster.

"That," Solas answered carefully, "I do not know. The memories are unclear of its finer details, but I would imagine for such an explosion to happen and go drastically wrong, he may have been there." I growled into my hands, rubbing both of them against my face rapidly, bringing heat into my cheeks. My palms rested against the sides of my face when I stopped.

"That son of a bitch," I cursed, "how the fuck did he get out of that mess?"

"I do not yet know how Corypheus survived." Solas muttered, equally frustrated. "Nor am I certain how people will react when they learn of the orb's origin." A wince ticked at my eye, because he was right. Much like in my old world, racism wasn't absent in this one. The elves, it seemed, had the worst of the cards from the deck, right alongside the mages.

"I can't have fanatical faith throw elves under the bus." I muttered with an instinctive glance back at the camp, knowing well that many of the people that worked with us were city elves or Circle mages that had escaped before the war had started. Leaving them to hang was not an option.

Solas scoffed, hands tight behind his back. "Corypheus may think it Tevinter. His empire's magic was built on the bones of  _my_  people. Knowing or not, he risks our alliance. I cannot allow it."

My gaze returned with a blink. "Solas — if you know about something that can help us, now is right about fucking time."

"Yes," Solas muttered darkly, his gaze dashed to the camp behind us, "judging by the faithful, now  _is_  the time. Come."

-0-

The next morning had what remained of our people packed up and in their marching boots. Solas had managed to convince Leliana and Cullen to trust in the memories he had wandered through in the Fade; of a stronghold a solid day's march from our position, to the north. It was a risk, because we had little in the way of food and if we got lost, there was no guarantee we'd be able to find another suitable valley in the mountain pass to shelter us again.

My two-cents of;  _we're dead in the water anyway, so fuck it_  prompted them both to fall in line despite the circumstances. That very same attitude saved me from Corypheus, I unashamedly reminded them. Much to Leliana's displeasure at not having a solid plan or backup plan, and Cullen's worry over the accuracy of our scouting, we were off.

Cullen had taken Blackwall and Bull, with the Chargers, to direct and guide the main body of our parade of people. Varric and Sera had been tasked to stay with their group of scouts and waylay any dangers that came into their sights. Vivienne stayed with our not-quite-prisoner, the mage Dorian Pavus. As far as that went, if the laughter was anything to go by, they were getting along famously.

Cole had disappeared, though occasionally I could feel a presence at my back or at my right side (away from the Mark) whenever we stopped for a small break. Solas had sensed him, too, but made no mention of it aside from a tick of his nonexistent eyebrow. Cassandra stayed with Cullen and the soldiers, Josephine had been packed up on a cart pulled along by a bronto.

Speaking of brontos. Upon first seeing one in the clear morning light, I had damn near shit myself. It was hugely akin to what I knew as a rhinoceros, but higher at the shoulder by at least a foot. Mind you, I had never actually stood next to a rhino, but if the fucker was tall as a Clydesdale, we had a problem. Horns protruded all along it's face and back, I could only imagine how the Chargers had managed to  _wrangle_  the damn things.

A story for another time.

True to Solas' word, it had taken us nearly all day to finally reach our destination. Determined to at least get my people there without collapsing and throwing all hope to the wind, I marched on until the first shouts from the scouts reached us. Two came dashing through the snow from a high cliff, making their way towards me as Leliana came up from behind.

"Did you find something?" Leliana asked from my side, the scouts were rosy-faced and grinning like Cheshire Cats.

"Aye, my lady." The woman saluted hastily and then jutted her thumb over her shoulder. "Just as the Herald said, we have a mountain's cliff to manage, but there's a stronghold just beyond."

"It's stunning," her partner injected, he just as breathless with excitement, "we can't yet tell how big it is but —"

"What do you mean?" Leliana interrupted, her brow in a frown.

"The stronghold's main entrance is over a long canyon in the mountains, but it looks to be nestled right up against the opposite mountain range, there may be a valley or some such behind it." The woman explained, gulping in as much of the thin air as she could. Leliana speared me with a look and I cobbled together a grin for her, exhaustion shoved into the recesses of my soul.

"Let's keep up, then." I entered the conversation, Leliana's face morphing a bit with turbulent thoughts. "One of you go get the other group of scouts, bring them back and find us the best way to it. Remember, brontos."

"Aye!" Both of them saluted, one dashed away toward the northeast where the other group had wandered off, and the other took bounding leaps of their legs to get through the snow and back up to where Sera waited for her, bow resting against her hip.

Like an amoeba, our traveling group shifted and redirected itself toward the northwest, keeping close together and pushing through the snow until the dying light of the sun setting met us at the top of the mountain. Solas and I kept ahead of the group, my eagerness to see the stronghold outweighing the pain in my ribs and the aches in my bones. My breath was coming up short and if it wasn't for Solas' attentiveness in keeping up with the restoration spells, I would have passed out a long while ago.

"There it is," Solas murmured as we breached over the top, the sunlight glittering over the snowcaps, "Skyhold."

The vision of the stronghold hit me with all the force of a maul. Gutted, I stumbled a bit down the slope as the enormity of the place engulfed me. The stronghold seemed to jut from the rock of the mountain under it, the gate house for the main entrance rested on a singular carving of mountain that stood before a chasm. The chasm broke the mountain range from one end to the other, not quite an even split, but it allowed Skyhold to sit in its nest of rocks on the other side safely, a valley sitting behind it, protected.

"Holy shit, Solas." I exclaimed breathlessly, turning toward him. "You saw  _this_  in the Fade?"

"Not as dilapidated, but yes." He answered, briefly smug. "It had seen better days and now only sits here, waiting for a force to hold it. There will be much in the needs of repairs —"

"Are you and I looking at the same thing right now?" I said flippantly, turning on a heel to gesture with wide arms to the stronghold, my ribs snarling with pain but I ignored it happily. "Look at this beast! Christ, Solas, these things don't just  _exist_  like this!"

He chuckled, leaning into his staff. "In  _your_  experiences, perhaps not. I will grant you, though, that these are a rarity here, as well. Come, it seems the scouts have found us a way to the gate house." Gently, he took my arm and we moved ahead. The rest of our people had come around at a lower level with a wider opening in between the rocks to get the brontos through.

I only made it about halfway down the slope to the dip of the valley when my knees finally gave out. Solas' arm gripped mine instantly, but the awkward downward angle of the slope and the snow made it nearly impossible for me to catch my footing. Not wanting to have us both tumble down like morons, I let my arm slip from his elbow hook and rolled.

Fire immediately presented itself in my ribs, stealing my breath. Over the crunch and slithering hiss of the falling snow, I could hear shouts. There was a thundering pace that came my way and I shut my eyes, bracing for the possibility of colliding with whatever boulder had come loose in my miniature avalanche.

" _Vashedan!_ " Qunlat echoed in my head as a large pair of hands came under my stomach and arm to lift me up, cleared from the snow. A few surprised blinks brought my gaze back to focus, hard, painful gasps escaped me and I found myself held aloft by a highly bemused Iron Bull.

"I slipped." I defended, breathless.

"I cannot take my eyes off you for a damn day, can I?" He sighed. Gently and mindful of my ribs, he set me down on my feet, but didn't release my arm. Cullen and Solas were making their way down toward my landing site, but Bull waved them off. On his heel, he turned his back to me and with the arm he still held, brought my hand up to his shoulder.

"Bull?" I squeaked. I knew the gesture well, my father and brothers had given me plenty of rides on their back when I was still small enough to be carried without complaint.

"I'm not going to trust that you're gonna keep your footing this time. We still have another uphill to go before we cross the bridge." He explained and tugged on my fingers to prompt movement. A harsh shudder went up my stomach and choked my tongue to the back of my throat. Nervously, I stepped forward and tentatively placed my other arm on his empty shoulder.

"And up we go." Effortlessly, the madman hauled me up onto his back with his other arm hooking a leg to his hip. My stomach plummeted through my pelvis at the sudden increase of height as he stood, my legs secured around his hips and my arms desperately clinging across his broad shoulders. The pain in my ribs was muted behind the thunderous hammering of my heart.

"Fucking hell." I stammered. His arms hooked under my knees and he bent forward, I had to keep my face pressed to the back of his neck in order to avoid his horns as his head tilted and turned.

"See? Not so bad. Now we can't lose you again." Bull took one lumping step forward and I squawked as the jolt rattled my ribs. Solas appeared at Bull's side, a heavy frown on his mouth.

"Thank you for catching her before she got too far." Solas narrowed a stink eye at me. "I apologize for my misstep."

"You're okay, dude." I smiled at Solas from behind Bull's horn. "I should've kept my eyes on the ground and not at Skyhold."

"Yeah, well." Bull carefully brought us around a sludge patch and walked us back toward the group heading up toward the gatehouse. "It's getting to the point that I can understand why Cassandra needed a leash all those months ago."

I pinched at his clavicle. "Don't you start. That's not a conversation to be had."

"Not in polite company, at the very least." Solas added snarkily.

"You're not helping, Solas." I quipped, throwing his stink eye back at him. It was a nightmare to feel the rumble of Bull's laughter under my ribs and in my stomach. I blamed all the blood in my rosy face on the snow and the tumble I had taken. We plodded along easily (or Bull did, at least) through the snow. What remained of Haven's people slowly funneled their way up toward the gatehouse of the massive stronghold.

Up ahead and under Bull's horns, I could spot Cullen and Harritt hurrying their way up toward the main gate. Solas left Bull's side to aide them, fleet-footed over the snow and through the crowd of people. Between the three of them and Harritt's loud banging from a hammer, the ironwork gate was loosened. Cullen turned away from the gate and scanned the crowd until he found Bull, a quick wave signaling him over.

"Probably need you to lift the thing up." I murmured near his ear. Funnily, the tip of his ear twitched and his grip on my legs tightened, his patched eye offered nothing in the way of his expression, but the corner of his mouth pulled back and flattened.

"More than likely," he rumbled. At the gate, he turned his back to Cullen and knelt down enough for me to slip from his back. The Commander quickly took up my arm and kept me steady before once again passing me off, to Harritt this time. I grinned at the man.

"Funny how it takes you almost dying again to get you to behave." Harritt's voice was gruff, but his eyes flashed over my face in concern. The skin over my body was still bruised, in multiple stages of purple and blue, yellow and some red. Mirrors weren't readily handy and no one was in the mood to stare at me too long. A small shrug was all I could offer.

With Bull's help, Cullen and a few of the soldiers managed to lift the gate up enough for Solas to slip under like a limbo expert. He disappeared from sight and forced his way into the tower. Minutes passed. Bull stepped away from the gate to look up at some of the arrow loops that spotted the tower. There was a hiss somewhere deep in the stone and the gate groaned loudly before its weight began to draw up.

"I was just about to throw Krem up there and hurry it up." Bull jested. He turned to look for me and raised his eyebrows. "Think you can make it, or do you still need a ride?"

My cheeks were scalding. "I'm pretty sure we could put me in the cart with Josephine. Not like that's going to be any less dignified that being carried in by my bodyguard."

"Yeah, but it also means we get to go in first. Come on." He grinned at me and repeated his steps to have me attached to his back. Harritt helped me up this time and patted my shoulder sympathetically. Bull wormed our way toward the front and walked us through the crowd to the head of the procession where Cullen and Cassandra walked shoulder to shoulder.

"It doesn't stop, does it?" Cullen exhaled, enthralled by the size of Skyhold.

Cassandra shook her head. "If the scouts are right and there's a field or open valley behind the keep, this place will be ideal to hold off against our enemies."

"The only thing that makes me nervous is the background." Bull added once he was a pace behind them. Cullen and Cassandra turned to share a look with Bull, and his tipped his chin up toward the rocky peaks behind Skyhold, where the sunset was now almost completely gone.

"I suppose it doesn't stop anyone from repeating what we did at Haven, avalanching us in, but that would take too much time." Cullen nodded, gesturing toward the mountaintops and then down toward Skyhold's sides. "See? She's been braced to handle the impact of trebuchets, and separated well enough to avoid invasion."

"It would be quite a feat for someone to get over those walls." Cassandra peered over to one side, glancing between the stonework of the bridge to inspect the walls. She hummed with a frown, "I can see there are a few places that will need repairs."

"That's what Solas said," I peeked again from under Bull's horns, my chin pressed to the back of his shoulder, bottom lip nearly at his skin. "But I think the only issue there is getting the supplies in. This is a long walkway."

"It is, but it's not a concern." Cullen flashed me a brief, tired smile. "I'll have Harritt and Josephine start contracts. Once we get word out that we've re-established a fort to work from, they'll come."

Skyhold's shadow passed over us, the sunlight from the fading sun was gone and torches behind us started to dot the procession as people lit them up. One was quickly passed to Cullen and Cassandra each. We reached the main entrance and found the ironwork already open. Tentatively, Cullen passed under it, keeping a trained eye on the gate in case it suddenly decided to guillotine his head.

Same as before, he disappeared into the tower and there was a loud bang that echoed in the silence and through the keep. The gate rose steady, rusty gears shrieking in effort as the gate was fully retracted. The rest of us passed through once it was made safe and the mouth of the courtyard opened before us. In the night, there wasn't much detail, but the safety the walls provided was unexplainable.

Relief warmed my shoulders and dripped through the rest of my bones, I slumped against Bull's steady back and he patted my knee gently, another rumbling chuckle coming up from his chest. We walked toward one end of the courtyard and waited until his company escorted the last of the people through. Krem jogged up and nodded to us, his eyes on Bull.

"Got 'em all, Chief. Most of the supplies are dropped off now, Your Worship." Krem peered at me around Bull's head, staring at me for a moment. "... should we get a tent set up for you, Your Worship?"

"Please." I relented, for once not in the mood to be stubborn. "Thank you, Krem."

"Of course." He smiled at me and trotted off. Bull turned his head lightly and I shifted over to his right side so his good eye would be in view. I raised my eyebrows at him questioningly and waited. He shifted my weight on his back and shook his head.

"Lost the thought," he murmured and then chuckled, "do us a favor, though, no more wild parties."

"I am a party." I retorted through a yawn. My arms dangled lifelessly over his shoulders, my hands barely at his pectoral muscles. "Christ, I'm exhausted. Think anyone would mind if I slept for a thousand years?"

"I would only mind if you came back looking like that darkspawn asshole." Bull teased. "Take a nap, boss. I'll get ya to bed."

"M'kay. Thanks, Bull." My smile was pressed against his shoulder and I patted his chest affectionately, without a thought. Another rumbling chuckle was all I heard before I allowed my mind to wander and sleep to finally capture me.


	7. ACT II: Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime learns what it means to accept the hand you're dealt, and run with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH! 
> 
> I posted?
> 
> In the words of All Might: Oh my goodness~! 
> 
> I cannot begin to describe how overwhelmed I've felt with the support. I hope you guys continue to return for more!

My ribs were on fucking fire and my knees complained like they had been replaced with lead weights but I awoke with an eagerness that I hadn't felt since Christmas nearly a decade ago, my childhood happiness rushing through me. With some effort, my hips rolled me up from the cot I was in and upright. Hair in complete disarray and half dressed, I threw on boots and yanked my coat on before dashing outside, tunic, coat, and hair flipping in the breeze.

The ice in the wind hit me first, and then the sunlight that came from the side of the gatehouse, or a little off to one corner of it. The stonework rose up in mighty walls and shadowed the courtyard. My tent was neighboring a few others in the smallest yard just before the main entrance. My feet carried me with a heavy trot toward the secondary, inner portcullis that was raised up fully. It was the crack of dawn and people were already milling about, their hands or steeds weighed down with supplies, crates, or people.

A grin split my face and my breath caught in short bursts within my lungs as I trotted along the wall, my gaze following the cut, hard stairways up toward the higher walkways, I could see the other part of the courtyard not far, a sagging, dank stable house at one end with rows and rows of stables; a few already housing resting steeds (or some sleeping civilians). With creaky knees and a stitch in my side from ignoring the pain in my ribs, I hurried up the main stairway to the second level of the courtyard.

"Holy shit," it was beautiful, stealing my breath and heart all in one go. Buildings stood tall and solid, with minimal damage to their outside fortifications. I could see the Chargers by one of the smaller buildings, it looked like a tavern, and I jogged up to them. Krem spotted me first from the corner of his eyes and handed off the bags he was holding; grinning at me as I approached.

Honestly, I screamed for joy, loud and long and startling, running toward him like a child as happiness bloomed in my chest at the sight of him, whole and alive. Krem jerked in surprised, his arms fumbling with the full weight of me as I charged into him, hugging him fiercely. The lieutenant's barking laughter rang in my ears and he stumbled a bit to account for my injuries, cradling me into his chest, his arms careful around my torso as he returned my hug, surprised and charmed.

_I'm so glad you weren't a dream from yesterday._

"Well, good morning to you, too, Your Worship." He laughed, pulling back and holding my shoulders affectionately. He winced, but his grin remained. "Maker, the Chief wasn't lying, you look horrific."

"Oh, fuck you, too." I smacked his arms away, gasping for laughter. "We made it — we did it! I wasn't dreaming!"

Krem flashed me a warm grin. "We did, all thanks to you. I wanted to say before; damn stupid of you takin' on a dragon by your lonesome, but I'm not one to argue results."

"If it looks stupid but it works, it's not stupid." I chimed happily. A hard snort escaped the lieutenant and I could see the eye roll even with the hand he raised to run through his cropped hair.

"Heavens above," he muttered teasingly, smirking at me, "too right you're a handful. Bless the Chief for putting up with your nonsense."

"Speaking of the devil," I asked, glancing around him into the tavern, then behind us back into the courtyard, "where is Bull?"

"Ah." Krem searched briefly and picked up a scroll left on a crate behind him. He opened and scanned it quickly, rubbing at his chin with the back of his wrist for a moment. "According to this, the Spymaster had him go out with half of the company to Orlais for supplies."

My shoulders sagged. "That asshole didn't even say goodbye."

"Why, miss him?" Krem teased, brows wiggling. He laughed at my scowl. "He left well before dawn. Skinner got impatient and Rocky needed to replenish supplies, so the sooner the better. He should be back by the end of next week."

"Holy fuck, how far are we?" I asked, eyes wide with surprise.

"A far distance, actually." Krem sobered and sighed. "On a map, we're not all that far from where the pilgrimage to Haven stopped, but we're higher in the mountain range, and it's a dangerous pass to get through."

A frown touched my face, "... so she sent Bull to clear out the pass?"

"You guessed it." Krem nodded, a confident smile on his face. "Rocky's our explosives expert. We had enough supplies to clear out the pass through the mountains, what with the avalanche and all, but he'll need more after, hence."

"Hence the need for him to leave and Bull to make sure his company is safe, I got it." I followed along. It wasn't as if survival was impossible without the Qunari around, but I had come to rely on his presence the last couple of days while I brought myself back up to speed. It was probably for the best, really, a leader couldn't be dependent on a mercenary commander for support.

I shook my head and glanced over Krem's face, "How is everyone else doing? Could you give me a report?"

"Of us?" Krem clarified, and at my nod, continued: "We're not too bad. We didn't lose any of  _our_  men, thankfully. We tried to keep as many of your people safe as we could, Your Worship, but…"

"I know." I softened the blow, offering him a sad smile. "I heard about the civilian casualties. I'm thankful that you guys were there to help." Krem returned my smile with a gentle one of his own, but there was hesitation in his gaze, something that flickered through him as he searched my face.

"Something wrong, Krem?" I probbed, head tilting.

"... it's good to have you alive, Your Worship." Krem replied softly, the same hesitation in his voice. "Not sure — how our lot would have taken it, losin' you." The simplest, sweetest words and they had me melting into my bones with obnoxious tears swelling up into my eyes. A smile forced its way over my mouth and I gave him a watery laugh.

"Well, for one, I would have asked for a refund from the Chargers." I joked, and it spurred Krem out of his somber mood with another laugh.

"I suppose you would." Krem nodded, grinning. "In any case, I've got the men helping with supplies and clean up. The place isn't too bad, just left unattended for quite some time. We should have most of it cleaned up by the end of the week."

"Alright. I'm assuming you're letting Josephine know if you need anything?" I raised an eyebrow. The lieutenant nodded sharply.

"Aye. No sense avoiding it. She's got us clearing the courtyard levels to allow merchants to come settle, the sick are in that building over there." He pointed to one beyond my shoulder and behind me, glued into the furthest wall and nestled from the main thoroughfare.

"And everyone who isn't sick?" I asked, turning back to him. He turned on his heel a bit and pointed to the towers that were along the main walls facing the mountain range and surrounded the main gate.

"See those towers there? Every level has already been fitted with beds and what blankets we still had." He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "Not an ideal place, but soldiers are the main company there. Commander Cullen's taken up the highest level near the gate as his office."

"Ah, good to know." I jotted the point down on my mental map to see if I could catch the Commander. The towers were tall and wide, allowing for a fair amount of space. We would need to look for a safer place for civilians away from the gates, but I hadn't explored the rest of the keep yet, so there was hope.

"Where are you lot staying?" I asked, curious where in the keep they managed to hide fifty plus men from a mercenary company.

"The dungeons for now." Krem grinned. "They're just through that door you see there. Yeah, that one. We're keeping there for now, until the valley behind the keep is cleared up."

I blinked, my attention snapping to his face. "Hold up, how big is that space?"

"Honest?" Krem rubbed at his chin. "About a league, give or take on the edges. Good place for tents and pilgrims. We can keep the merchants up here with the soldiers and give people a home behind the keep." It was very Arthurian, to have a keep that housed a small city of people in the future. It was a huge relief as well, knowing that our people weren't going to be first in line for the slaughter like they were at Haven.

Instinctively, I saluted Krem. "Good. Thank you for the update, Krem."

"Aye, Your Worship." He returned the salute readily. "Come to us if you need anything, Chief asked us to keep an eye on you."

"Of  _course_  he would, because he's a nice asshole like that." I laughed. With a small tip of my head, I left Krem to his duties with the Chargers and fluttered back to my exploring. The keep was mammoth in both size and design. There was a bit in the way of wasted space, but that was my designer's brain talking. The land that the keep sat on was narrow and not necessarily wide. If I were to recall correctly, many of the old castles, forts, and keeps back on Earth were placed in much the same areas.

My anxiety was appeased the more time I spent wandering through Skyhold. The old faces from Haven gave my rolling stomach a strange sense of comfort and immense relief. Cabot was found in the tavern, grumbling about the missing product and having to order more ale for  _moral support_. Flissa had taken up with the Chantry and stayed away from the tavern.

Seggrit had decided to be more hands on with the transport of refugees, so our recruitment of Bonny Sims came through as she had taken the reins to make sure the merchants had a place to set up and they were slowly starting to line up along the edges of the walls. Food supplies were piling up and the main keep was blocked off due to damage and mess. That would have to wait, but with the breakneck pace that our people were working, I was sure it would be cleared up in no time.

It was about midday before Vivienne found me. I was resting in the gardens tucked away further into the inner guts of the keep, secluded and peaceful. Some of the Chantry Sisters and Mothers had taken up residence in the rooms around the garden, using them as healing rooms or resting rooms for the severely wounded, traumatized, or dying. Morbid as it was, it was an atonement to be close to the people who had fought for the Inquisition.

I was also in mourning, having found out that Chancellor Roderick hadn't survived his wounds.

"Hello Vivienne." I greeted her easily, watching as the woman made her way through the garden's stone paths toward my bench. Her eyes widened marginally for a fraction of a second before she schooled her face into smooth concern, polite and tempered. She stood before me, her gaze inspecting my face.

"Maker," she exclaimed shortly, "you're a mess! Let me have a look at you." And for the umpteenth time, I had a pair of hands on my face and shoulders, turning my chin one way and then another as I was glossed over for injuries or fatalities. One would think that if I was well enough to go bounding around Skyhold like an excitable puppy, I was possibly nowhere near death's door.

Possibly.

"Are you all right, my dear?" She pursed her lips at me, the concern playing quietly through her words. "Were you hurt? You look dreadful."

I chuckled, "I must be doing better, if I don't look like a broken penis. I'm just fine, don't worry."

"You bear it well." She nodded approvingly, taking her hands back and folding them before her, arms resting at her sides. "Good. The troops will take their cue from your composure. Now…" I braced, waiting for whatever slew of points she had lined up in her lecture, as I was sure she hadn't missed the lift I had taken on Bull's back to get up to Skyhold. Or the tumble before that.

"Let's keep up appearances. Do not think anyone ignored your stumble in the snow." She eyed me critically. The words weren't as sharp as I had expected them to be, so I flashed her a cheeky grin. A small, amused smirk tugged at her lips and she flattened it out swiftly.

"You've handled this crisis competently, saving as many lives as you did." Her shoulders straightened as she glanced away to the Sisters that assisted with the wounded throughout the garden, her voice lower. "But the enemy struck a serious blow against you and the Inquisition. We  _must_  recognize that.  _You_  must."

"Vivienne." The grin slipped from my face and I wasn't sure what replaced it, but it was enough to give the Grand Enchantress pause, her eyes fluttering with a few hard blinks as she focused on me. "I'm not about to let what Corypheus did go unpunished.  _Hundreds_  died. He's going to answer for that crime." The pause continued, Vivienne's sharp gaze studying me as if I had morphed in front of her into something new.

She smirked. "You're angry.  _Good_. Anger can save you when everything else is gone." She didn't have to tell me twice. Though there was no way to rightly tell what, beyond pure desperation, had gotten me through the mines under Haven, but it was funneling into something else. Sitting in the gardens and listening to my soldiers and civilians groan or cry with agony or pain, it was fueling the darkening pit in my stomach.

Chancellor Roderick had been one straw of many.

"Our enemy is advancing, Herald. We must not sit idly by. Act first, and teach them to fear us." Vivienne continued firmly, her voice resolute. My heart stuttered in my ribs and with a flick, my gaze shot away to the center of the garden, watching a Mother sit with a bandaged soldier, his arm clearly gone and his torso nothing but scars. My Marked palm was hidden away in the fingers of my hand.

_Fear isn't going to solve this, Vivienne._

"There are greater powers in this world than fear, Vivienne." I countered with quiet words. An eyebrow of hers shot up over her forehead. I sat up straighter, rolling a shoulder before bringing my weight to my knees and standing. "Fear, like love and hate and mercy, always spread. But. I appreciate the advice." Even if I managed to strike fear into the hearts of the Venatori or Corypheus (doubtful that rat bastard had a heart), it wouldn't stop there.

Sitting in the gardens and watching the Mothers work their skills, hearing the murmurs and desperate whispers, I had a better, greater perspective. The Inquisition would grow. The limits of our power and influence would expand.  _My_  influence would expand. I could hardly afford now to be weak, but I couldn't afford to let the Inquisition turn into a dictatorship. If anyone had taught me a lesson about power, it was Spiderman.

And I knew  _better_.

After my rest at the gardens and finally escaping the hawkeyes of the Chantry's deadliest Mothers, I found myself wandering around near the tavern again. At the edge of the second level looking down to the first, I could see the broad back of Blackwall. He leaned against the edge of the stonework wall, hands braced over the surface and his shoulders hunched. The day was coming to a close, it could only be assumed that whatever duty he had been assigned, he had finished.

_Leliana managed to convince Iron Bull and Blackwall to retreat,_  Cullen's voice echoed through my ears,  _but they didn't look like they wanted to._

Slowly and carefully, I made my way over to the brooding Blackwall. Glancing about the ground, there was a twig long enough to make a satisfying snap if broken, so I walked over to it. My heel came down on the twig and with its hiss of noise, Blackwall's shoulders tensed. Dark eyes came over his shoulder and found me, the tension melting from his frame after a moment. He dropped his head and his fists gripped tight, pressing into the unrelenting stone.

Another few steps and I was beside him, nervous. Instinct had me wanting to reaching out and reassure him, but common sense told me to wait. Something was rolling through him, a storm I couldn't see or weather for him. Moments felt like hours until finally he exhaled and slackened, his limbs jello at his sides. He didn't face me fully and kept his eyes on the courtyard below. I was at a loss for words, so like an idiot, I stood there, helpless.

"In my defense," I faltered, "I didn't leap head first this time. I was actually running  _away_." A dark, choked laugh strangled him, something akin to what I had heard from Cullen back in my healing tent in the mountains. Pain and laughter, displeasure or disbelief, perhaps? I couldn't claim to know the workings of my mind, least of all the minds of others.

"I don't know what to think anymore." Blackwall replied, stepping away from the stone fencing. His gaze still avoided me. "We had gotten too far to get back to you, too many enemies had surrounded us, and the dragon…"

"Was a pretty big bastard, I'm not going to lie." I interrupted, wholly unnerved by the somber mood between us. Blackwall wasn't like Bull or Varric or even Solas, he couldn't snap to my humor like the others did, his form of coping was vastly different and I struggled to keep still under the weight of it.

"I was asking myself what you were thinking, standing against that thing all on your own. Did you even  _try_ to run?" Blackwall's voice was hollow in his throat, sounding distance and utterly confused. Gently, I attempted to come into his line of sight, to catch his eye, but he was still too close to the stonework.

"Where was I going to go?" I asked quietly. There was no telling where he was going to go with this line of questioning. Last decent conversation we had, had been ages ago and since then we had been on eggshells. His duty outweighed his opinion of me or my lack of restraint and I was too much of a soulless chickenshit to actually patch the missing holes in our partnership.

"I don't know. Somewhere, anywhere." Blackwall muttered, the tension returning to his shoulders and neck. "And then the screaming… but you managed it — you brought Corypheus low and set out to do what you promised, destroying Haven."

"I — you're making it sound way braver than it actually was." I choked, hands laced together and fiddling over my stomach nervously. "I was shitting my brains out, I was so scared."

"But you still did it." Blackwall growled, though I was uncertain if it had been accusatory or not. "You still got to the trebuchet — you still faced him." I grasped at mental straws and strings, trying to figure out where he wanted to go, what he wanted me to say. There was something, a hint of rage or fury that boiled deep under his skin.

"I had to," came the weak reply, "I  _had_  to. It was — you know, good math. One, for the many. Me, for Haven." Something snapped in him, something tight and coiled down in his throat that when it broke loose, he swallowed and shut his eyes, the muscles of his jaw and neck jumping in electrocution.

"And do you always think that?" Blackwall finally turned to face me. My lungs shriveled behind my ribs as his intensity was weighed against my gaze, challenging me to answer him. "Good leaders don't sacrifice themselves on  _chances_. They don't throw all caution to the wind and  _hope_  for the best. They look for options!"

"I'm not a good leader, Blackwall." I swallowed to rehydrate my lungs, letting them expand enough to breathe and steady my nerves. "And my choices may not always be good ones, but I make them because I can live with my decisions."

"And what about us? The Inquisition? Do we just forgive those decisions? Even the stupid ones?" He snapped low in his throat. We stared at each other, a tremble came through him as the storm passed through his eyes, anger and a fear that I recognized.

"A wise man once said," I began, leaning on the words of Bruce Lee, "mistakes are always forgivable, if one has the courage to admit them." It stopped Blackwall long enough for me to exhale and gather my nerves, holding them tight under my trembling heart. A cloud passed through his eyes, an emptiness I hadn't seen before. His shoulders went limp and a quiet, hollow chuckle followed.

"Not  _all_  mistakes can be forgiven." He answered softly. "Death and murder, certainly not."

"If we're going to get philosophical here, you're in trouble." I joked weakly. "Look, Blackwall. I'm not… I'm not going to even presume to know what you've been through. What mistakes you've made, but hear me out, alright?"

"Herald —" He started, but I raised my hand and shut him off.

"No, listen to me. I've heard this undertone you've got every time you've spoken to me." I admitted, exhaling at the wrong time and choking as I tried to catch my breath, my voice tight and higher than it needed to be. "And if you've got something to say, you need to say it. You need to tell me what's got you so scared."

"I'm not scared." He immediately replied, waspish.

"That is exactly the tone of voice of someone who is," I deadpanned. Blackwall struggled, warring within himself to say something, either in retaliation or submission.

"Walk with me." He demanded, impatiently stepping around me and heading toward the stairway toward the main wall. "I want to examine the ramparts, take stock of our fortifications." One would never believe how heavily my eyes rolled in my head, but I kept myself mute as I followed him. The crowd on the second level courtyard had started to stop and stare at us. I knew he wanted to escape our audience.

We traveled up the stairs and through a tower. I skipped around a few soldiers to keep up with Blackwall. He had us stepping outside onto the ramparts, overlooking the main gate, the wind whipping at my coat and hair, forcing me to tuck a few strands to the back of my head, twisting the hair into a tail I held over my shoulder. Blackwall stopped and looked out over the ledge, his brow heavy over his eyes.

"... We'll be able to see Corypheus coming from miles away." He muttered. I hadn't doubted it. The deep valley swam before us and tapered off into a lake that bled between the mountains and possibly connected out to a massive river. Corypheus' only option was to come from above, or through our mouth at the main gate.

"He'll be hard pressed to take advantage of us this time." I replied, unsure of what else to say. My gaze shot to Blackwall's shoulder and up to his profile, patient. "He won't get the drop on us. Skyhold promises that much."

"Let him come. I swear I'll take the twisted bastard down, even if I have to die to do it." Blackwall growled, fisting his hand against the stone and pushing away from it. My right eye narrowed at him, squinting in the morning light.  _Did we not just have this discussion?_

"You're being hypocritical." The snap was unintentional, but the feeling slipped by my lips without a care. Blackwall's molten gaze came to my face, but there wasn't much left of my fear to cower me anymore. It was one thing to point fingers, it was a different thing to point fingers when we stood in the same sinking boat.

"It's different." Blackwall groused. "I'm not a symbol to these people. I don't hold the whole blasted world in the palm of my  _hand_." His finger jutted toward my side, with my instinctive jerk to hide my hand behind my back.

"And you think I'm ready to lose you?" I tossed back into his face. It was enough to derail him, his shoulders popping at my words and his eyes going wide. I had him, he  _would_  listen to me now. "You think I can do this alone? Do you have any idea how limited I am in friends around here?"

"The Inquisition wouldn't abandoned their loyalty to you like they would to someone like me." Blackwall shook himself, his shoulders trembling before he straightened them, his voice croaked.

"I'm not talking about fucking loyalty here, you jackass." The words whipped, heat seared up my back as my knuckles rapped against my spine with a shake. "I'm talking about actual,  _goddamn_  friendship. You think any of these soldiers legitimately care for  _Jaime_  and not the Herald?"

"When they told me you weren't the religious sort, I ignored it. How could you not be, given the gift you were given." He glanced low at the sway of my hips and glared back up at me, mouth set tight. "Tell me honestly: are you what they say you are? Andraste's chosen?"

"No." I hardlined him, the corners of my mouth twitching with a snarl. " _No_ , and I never was, but that doesn't fucking matter now. What I  _am_  is  _their_  goddamn hope for  _any_ sort of future, but I can't have you nipping at my heels for every shithead mistake!"

"I  _nip_  at your heels  _because_  of that!" He snapped, his arms twitching harshly at his sides. "Listen to yourself, despite not being what they claimed you to be, you  _have_  become that, you're their only hope and I can't — we can't have you throwing yourself away." Immediately he reeled on his heels, inhaling deep and holding his breath, a technique I had seen some of the soldiers do to steel themselves.

Resisting my stubbornness, I took two small steps back and exhaled. My right hand came to join my left behind me, resting at the small of my back. It drew my shoulders straight and centered me. I hadn't fought with one of my companions before, it should have been a given: I wasn't going to get along with everyone.

Blackwall hadn't been one of the ones I thought I would butt heads with, and that had been short-sighted of me.

My shoulders relaxed, something dawned on me, coming up from the back of my thoughts.

_We're the same,_ the thought wisped through my ears,  _we're afraid. We're helpless._ I couldn't have my companions, my friends, throwing themselves at danger because of me, because without them, I wouldn't have a foundation to stand upon. I had been like that with Cassandra, but we hadn't fought as Blackwall and I did because she  _knew_  her worth. She persevered because she was confident she could.

Blackwall and I didn't have that.

A laugh overtook me, startling Blackwall. My hands came up to my face and hid my eyes, the heels of my palms resting on my cheeks before smothering my mouth to clam up the laughter that escaped me.

"... Jaime?" Blackwall tugged at my attention, unnerved by the turn I had taken.

"You're a jackass." But I grinned at him past my fingers, hands still at my mouth. "... I hear you, Blackwall. I'm — I'm sorry."

"You — what?" Blackwall floundered, cheeks going red. "What part of the conversation are we on, because I think you've lost me."

"Oh, no, I know." I answered, one hand dropping to my side while my left came up to rub at my temple. "I just… realized. What you mean, I mean. Fuck, I mean — hold please." I held up a finger, bewildering my Warden further, his shoulders stiffening with confusion.

"Got knocked in the head for certain, now." Blackwall muttered, straightening a foot. "Or gone off on a potion, no doubt."

"What did I just say, huh? Shush it." I waved my left hand at him, taking a side step forward. "All I'm saying is… I get it. I — I'm sorry it took a shouting match to get me on the same page, but I get it."

"You get it?" Blackwall parroted with absolute disagreement, face a stone's surface. "Right."

"I  _understand._  I get that you're worried about me, because yeah, from… from your side of the boat, it looks like I'm trying to sink us." I sighed, my left hand came to twist my throat. His eyes flickered between it and my face, waiting. "... but it doesn't matter if I tell you I'm not when I'm still doing shit that negates that."

He waited a second more before his shoulders slowly eased and his back relaxed, his mouth softening under his beard. A sigh brushed his lips. "... I didn't mean to shout."

"Yes you did," I grinned.

He fought his own, "... maybe a little. You're just — worse than a demon, I swear."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" I snipped, my muscles relaxing as the tension ebbed away from us. I doubted the fight was far from over, as our personalities would continue to clash, but for now at the very least, there was peace. We were waterlogged, but the boat wasn't sinking anymore.

"It  _means_  that pretty face of yours hides a devil's worth of problems." He grumbled, shaking his head as his face flushed, turning to leave me on the ramparts. My laughter followed him out.


	8. ACT II: Crowned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That one awkward bit at Skyhold.

Two weeks had passed. Our first meeting was just starting.

"Is there a reason we're deciding to have this meeting here?" I questioned the room at large. The main hall to Skyhold had finally been opened up to clean up and construction work. The workers hadn't been allowed inside just yet, as our group had taken up what limited space there was as we inspected the work needed. Josephine's eyes were on the high stone walls and the tattered tapestries, Cullen's gaze snaked along the ground, minding the broken wood and battered tables.

Leliana's eyes were on me.

"This is where our promise turns into action." Leliana glanced past Cullen as he shifted past her. "The Inquisition was saved, but only  _just_. We need to rebuild and make our stand."

"But what do we do?" Josephine interrupted beside me, writing slab tight in her hands. "We know nothing about this Corypheus except that wanted her Mark." Shadows fluttered over the floor as workers passed behind us, the sunlight sneaking through the open entrance. A wind caught up and whistled through our ankles.

"Corypheus wants to restore Tevinter." I recalled darkly, my right hand rubbing the palm of my left, my eyes to the ground. "Could this be the first step to war with the Tevinter Imperium?"

Cullen, ever the general, took my question, "I get the feeling we're dealing with extremists, not the vanguard of a true invasion."

"Tevinter is not the Imperium of a thousand years ago." Josephine added, leaning into the conversation. "What Corypheus yearns to  _restore_  no longers  _exists._ " Her candle burned brightly in the gentle shadows of the crumbling corpse of the hall. I resisted the childish urge to snuff it out with a huff; I smothered a misplaced grin instead.

Josephine was unaware, "Though, they would shed no tears if the south fell to chaos, I'm certain."

"Well, what about our not-prisoner?" I questioned, glancing over my shoulder as if the mage would appear at my heels. Josephine and Cullen spared me a look, but Leliana took her pensive thoughts and consulted the ground at her toes.

"With my net of birds currently in shambles, I have yet to confirm his intentions." Leliana pulled her gaze to my throat briefly, then up to my eyes. "He may be more willing to speak to you, though, as he may see you as a neutral party."

"I am hella far from neutral, Sister." I joked. "He's probably heard stories."

"True as that may be, you're unbound to any families or alliances he may be familiar with." Josephine hummed thoughtfully. "For someone of his status, he will be well versed in families, some treaties, alliances and the such, much as I am."

"And because you don't fit into any of those, practically appeared out of thin air, jest  _intended_ ," Cullen swayed a bit away from Leliana's glare, his focus on my face with a grin tugging at his lips, "he would be likely more at ease to speak with you, erring on practicality. You've shown to be logical, at the least."

"At the least," I intoned, "Barring launching a trebuchet in my face."

"Hence," Cullen twittered with a hint of snark, " _at the least_."

"Ass." I clipped, my attention back to Leliana. "Coming back; Corypheus said he wanted to enter The Black City, that doing so would make him a god."

A terrible threat passed Leliana's eyes. "He is willing to tear this world apart to reach the next. It won't matter if he's wrong."

"What if he's not wrong?" Cullen shook his head, a hand on his hip. "If he finds some other way into the Fade?" Josephine and I shuffled together, our eyes bouncing between the two, our shoulders brushed up as we stood next to each other.

"Then he gains the power he seeks or unleashes catastrophe on us all." Leliana stated finally, brutal in the facts. Cullen's face scrunched around his nose, eyes wrinkled at the corners, a sigh escaping his chapped lips. I hesitated, my ribs trembling with a question.

"Um," my right hand rose for attention, "Could I ask? Do all dragons look like his, by the way?"

"No." Cullen immediately replied, his shoulders slumped. "Depending on breed and type, they can be different sizes and colors."

"Though…" Leliana paused, an index finger coming to curl over her chin. "The dragon bore some resemblance to the Archdemon from the last Blight."

"Maker," Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose, "the very last thing we need is  _another_  Blight."

"Oh, let us not borrow trouble." Josephine tightened her jaw, fingers adjusting on her writing board. "We've seen no darkspawn other than Corypheus himself. Perhaps it's not an Archdemon at all, but something different?"

"Whatever it is, it's dangerous. Commanding such a creature gives Corypheus an advantage we can't ignore." Cullen amended, an apologetic glance over to Josephine. The woman next to me stiffened for a moment and I leaned against her shoulder, letting her go lax into my weight.

My hands ran up into my hair.  _Varric knows._ The dwarf knew Corypheus, if not in origin, then at least in his first appearance, confused and violent in the depths of the mountains with Hawke and his sister. I swallowed, a seething heat curled under my heart, unsure of my next step.

"Someone out there must know  _something_  about Corypheus." Josephine murmured.

"Unless they saw him on the field, most will not believe he even  _exists._ " Cullen countered, shifting his weight to his back foot. My tongue was glued to the back of my throat. I  _knew_  I needed to share what I had, but I also knew Varric had done everything he could to keep his friend out of the Inquisition.

Guilt started to bubble at my throat.

"We do have one advantage." Leliana set her eyes on Cullen, then to me: "We know what Corypheus intends to do  _next_." I caught up with her, my eyebrows raising with my hands still in my hair. They dropped as the light bulb flashed over my head.

"The assassination attempt." I breathed, stunned. "Right, I saw that shit when we went to save the templars."

Josephine inhaled sharply. "Imagine the chaos her death would cause. With his army…"

"An army he'll bolster with a massive force of demons," Cullen growled, "now that he's acquired the mages."

"Corypheus could conquer the entire south of Thedas, god or no god." Josephine took a glance at me, my left hand her next stop before she reached up and rubbed at her temple, worry touching her smooth face. Leliana ducked her chin to her throat, brow tucked to her nose.

"I'd just feel better if we knew more about what we're dealing with." She murmured, tired and sore from the days events. A wince ticked at my eyes and my guilt forced me to relent, I  _had_  to tell them, and I would apologize to Varric for it later.

"I know someone who can help with that," the dwarf's baritone echoed into the hall, stilling me. Startled, my group and I turned to spy the stout stride of my companion trudge up to us, his mouth and eyes strangled between amusement and terror.

He raised his hands, ever the entertainer. "Everyone acting all inspirational jogged my memory, so I sent a message to an old friend." Varric locked eyes with me over Leliana's shoulder. Tightly, my lips pressed together and I sighed, a horrid sense of relief doused my guilt.  _It didn't have to be me._

"He's crossed paths with Corypheus before, and may know more about what he's doing. He can help." Varric played the part well, grinning at me like a knowing fool and a flush flooded up to my ears.  _He's keeping me out of trouble. Fuck, now I really do owe him._ A forced smile took over my frown and I stepped between Leliana and Cullen.

"I'm always looking for new friends," I answered, practiced as if for hours, "Introduce me, please."

Varric's grin turned gentle as he nodded. "Parading around might cause a bit of a fuss. He should be here tomorrow. I'll have you meet privately, on the battlements. That all right?"

"Yeah, whatever is most convenient."  _Thank you_. I grinned a real smile this time, "If I'm dead by the end, we know who's to blame."

"Ain't that the truth," Varric chuckled. "See you then, though. I got a message to send." Varric reached out and patted my arm, leaving me with a knowing tick of his brow. A swallow went down my throat, thankful that he had covered my back.

"Well, then. We stand ready to move on both of these concerns." Josephine sighed, her weight centered over her feet, fingers lax on her writing board.

Leliana chuckled, hands behind her back. "I know one thing; if Varric has brought who I  _think_  he has, Cassandra is going to kill him."

I swallowed again;  _that's what I was afraid of._

"Well." I croaked, clearing my throat and turning back to my troupe. "Is there anything else on the schedule we need to go over?" An alarm blared through my ears as all three of the heads shared a look amongst themselves.  _Oh, fuck me. Now what?_  Leliana was the one to snare me with her gaze.

"One last thing, Herald." She stood forward and reached out to touch my elbow, turning me away as Josephine and Cullen took the lead and marched out through the front entrance. Nerves flared with a swift anxious twinge all along my back, my gaze flickered between Leliana and the other two who left us.

"Why do I feel like I'm about to be executed?" I twittered nervously.

"Nothing so dramatic." Leliana soothed, and nodded forward toward the entrance. There, Cassandra stood, proud and waiting. Now my nerves really were on fire and with my hands wrung together like knotted laces, I stepped toward her. Leliana abandoned my side, disappearing into a doorway just before the door.

"What's going on, Cassandra?" I hissed to her, hackles raised. The woman only offered me a small, crooked smile and turned to face out toward the courtyard. The lower level was slowly filling as new bodies came in through the gate, new tents hastily set up, stacks of crates dotted the walls.

"They arrive daily from every settlement in the region." Cassandra explained softly. "Skyhold is becoming a pilgrimage." Soldiers were quick to disperse newcomers from the gate, helping with the flow of traffic and directing the sick and wounded to the healing tents. Others still able-bodied were given supplies and sent off with new orders.

A few snagged a seat on crates and held their heads in their hands. My heart shuddered for them.

"If word has reached these people, it will have reached The Elder One." Cassandra took a handful of steps down from the hall's entrance, over the stone steps to a lower platform. Her eyes continued to scan the crowds as they came into Skyhold like a tide.

"We'll give them a home." I placated, unsure of what she was gunning for as a response.

She nodded, stopping at the lip of the platform. "We have the walls and numbers to put up a fight here, yes, but this threat is far beyond the war we anticipated."

"War likes to do that." I murmured, standing next to her, my hands folded behind my back to mirror her stance. A few of the new arrivals stared up at us, the sun now overhead and slowly making its trek behind the massive fort. I spotted the familiar glint of Krem's pauldrons as he hurried through the courtyard toward the gate. A frown touched my mouth,  _where is he going?_

"It is a beast well known and ever unpredictable." Cassandra agreed, a short glance toward me. "But we now know what allowed you to stand against Corypheus, what drew him to you." I raised my hand, the light of the anchor, the Mark, glowed with a sputter and dimmed. My attention distracted from the lieutenant, it drew up to Cassandra's face, her gaze floating across my face.

A sigh drew from my lips. "This damn thing. I'm standing in his way."

"Perhaps in more ways than we've considered." Cassandra tilted her head, a speculative blink down at my hand. She shifted to face me slightly, a third of her instead of a profile, and she settled her shoulders, her hands at her sides.

"Your decisions let us heal the sky. Your determination brought us out of Haven." She stated. Embarrassment heated my neck and ears, turning them pink and I raised a hand to stop her, my mouth going slack, but she trudged on; stalwart. "You  _are_  the creature's rival because of what  _you_  did. And we know it.  _All_ of us."

New footsteps drifted behind us. With a jerk, I caught sight of Leliana coming down toward us with a sword at her side, bright and menacing, a hilt the size of both my hands adorned its handle and glittered in the sunlight.  _Oh, no, sonvabitch, don't put me on the spot like this!_

"Uh," I let out lamely.

Cassandra chuckled. "The Inquisition requires a leader: the one who has  _already_  been leading it." A sharp ring of silence came through my ears. Nervously, I turned to glance below and found that the courtyard levels had been filled with merchants, pilgrims, and soldiers. Cullen and Josephine smiled up at me from within the crowd, the bodies slowly swaying to a stand-still as they turned their gazes up to us.

To me.

_You bastards._

Tears welled up in my eyes. Leliana held the sword aloft in both her hands as she faced me, Cassandra at my left, as always. She nodded, her face stern and confident, the smallest hint of a smirk touched her bottom lip.

" _You_." She confirmed.

"Did everyone agree to this?" I murmured, emotions gripped at my throat. A hard swallow forced its way into my voice, the corners of my eyes wrinkling with unshed tears. Leliana and Cassandra shared a swift glance before the Spymaster stood tall and step forward.

"No one here has shown a greater sense of duty than  _you_ , Jaime." Leliana spoke gently, soothing the frayed ends of my nerves. "And of all those involved,  _you_  were the last of us who held that responsibility."

"Cass?" My gaze searched her face, a shiver of anticipation curling through my limbs. Her mouth hesitated, her eyes broken from their gaze over my face before she sighed and nodded, her hands fists at her sides, resisting an urge that I could see flash across her face.

"You have made me proud." Cassandra muttered, a tint of embarrassment coming through. "Though I had been reluctant to allow you the chance to lead, you never failed when you did. I trust you."

"Cass," I breathed, floored. The tears dribbled down my cheeks.

"There would be no Inquisition without you. How it will serve, how you will lead: that must now be  _yours_  to decide." Cassandra reaffirmed, her hand nearly reaching out to take mine. Heat swelled against my lungs and the tears burned with that new heat as they slid down my face. With a stare, I turned to the sword held in Leliana's hands.

My own looked miniscule when I reached to take the handle. Both hands were needed to pull it up and hold it up into the air, my tear-stained face reflected in the grooves of the polished steel. A hard clench of my teeth tightened my throat to clear it as I stared.

_There is no Inquisition without me?_  The heels of my feet turned me toward the crowd, my heart hammered and stuttered like a madman in my chest, my lungs rebelled and swallowed my inhale, refusing to let go. The sword was steady in the grip of both my hands and I faced the  _true_  Inquisition below me.

Hundreds had died, senselessly and without cause. Corypheus had unarmed us with his ruthlessness and demanded sacrifices.  _And yet_ , the people continued to return, continued to bolster our forces, drive us harder with their determination to see an end to the madness that had taken ahold of us. I could spy the hazy figures of the Chargers at the back, the merchants along the walls, the few mages who escaped with their staves held up, unafraid of the templars that stood beside them.

My own screams in the hidden, ice-bitten cavern echoed through my bones.

I inhaled, my back straightened, the tears continued to fall.

"Corypheus will  _never_  let us live in peace, he made that perfectly clear!" I cried out over the courtyard, the echo of my voice ringing through the stone walls, my knuckles white as I held the sword before me. Cullen smirked from below with Josephine grinning giddly next to him. The spatter of my companions dotted the crowd.

"He intends to be a god, to rule over us all!" I continued, my voice stronger once the ball of bile had been forced back into the recesses of my bowels. A pair of horns near the gate caught my attention, even though I couldn't quite see his face.

A new, deeper heat surged through me. Emboldened, I grinned.

"Corypheus  _will_ be stopped!" I exclaimed, brandishing the sword before me, grin bright. "And  _we'll_  be the ones to do it!" Cheers burst through the courtyard, hands shooting into the air with fists and swords and staves.

"Have our people been told!" Cassandra commanded, stepping up next to me, her voice carrying over mine to the crowd below. A flash of gold caught the sunlight as rays of it scored along the level from the fort behind us.

"They have!" Josephine replied, exuberant. "And soon, the world!"

"Commander!" Cassandra barked. My arms were starting to shake. "Will they follow!" Cullen came to life next to Josephine, his shoulders going wide across his back, his head held high and he faced the horde behind him, with a back step onto a jutting rock, looking for higher ground.

"Inquisition!" He commanded, "Will you follow!" The crowd erupted before him, the soldiers howled behind the civilians, their hands raised into the air, shields exploded with sunlight as they were raised and drilled into the ground.

"Will you fight!" He challenged, his own fist raised as well. Another explosion of shouts, louder than the last as the Chargers at the rear near the gate roared up amongst the voices of the pilgrims and soldiers. My eyes spied the curious tilt of the pair of horns.  _Amusement, or pride?_

"Will we triumph!" Cullen continued, enthused by the people around him. Their roaring cheers slammed together and rose like a heat over the platform, staves glowing bright, swords held high over their heads, civilians crying out as far as their voices would take them.

"Your leader! Your Herald! Your  _Inquisitor_!" He hollered, the breath of his sword drew from its sheath and glinted in the fading sunlight, matching the stance of mine on the higher platform. He raised it as I desperately tried to keep my elbows from bending from the whirlwind of emotion.

Caught up in the moment, I forced my arms up and the sword over my eyeline.

My own scream of triumph was lost among the many others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an awkward chapter. Gameplay-wise, I understand why it's shoved right there after you reach Skyhold, but realistically... you shouldn't be having meetings in crumbling forts. And everyone's got to get their bearings first.
> 
> Eh well. We did what we could, lads. Thanks for coming back!
> 
> Psst. Dorian comes in next chapter.


	9. ACT II: A Gilded Cage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Jaime meets Dorian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHH! I had so much fun with this chapter. Also a HUGE shout-out to all you returning readers (and new ones, you know who you are), for giving me the big push to finish this and keep going. 
> 
> ALL MY LOVE. TAKE IT.

 

It had taken most of the next day to clear out the main fort. The ceremony the day before had invigorated everyone. Before the day was over, the braziers were lit and the floor had been cleared of debris. Solas had immediately taken up in the center piece, the rotunda that spiraled upward with the staircase swirling around it up to the higher levels.

I had lost Bull sometime between the ceremony and the next morning, and couldn't find the bravery to ask any of the other Chargers were he and Krem had disappeared. My Hydra had left to complete their tasks and allowed the workers free reign of the area.

_Where to hide?_  Not like I was any use when it came to actual construction work, though I wouldn't be opposed to helping with some of the architecture. Time to go sticking my nose into places it didn't belong, I suppose.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" The cultured voice rang through the rounding spiral of the tower. Solas had been nowhere for me to find, but the sound of tossed books and frantic shuffling had me curious enough to investigate. Up the stairs I went, careful of my footing as more books hit the floor on the next landing (didn't want to be pelted as I came up).

At the landing, just before me stood our not-quite-a-prisoner. The mage Dorian Pavus, if I remembered correctly. He was dressed in dark tan robes and belts, his attire reminiscent of the bloodied one he was found in when he first crashed into our gate. Where he had found a spare was anyone's guess, as I personally had not spotted a traveling case.

"What is?" I questioned, hoping to catch his attention; another book went sailing. It skidded along the stones and tipped over the edge down to the rotunda below. He spied me over his shoulder, but his hands continued to rummage through the books that dotted the shelves. Old remnants of previous occupants, perhaps, because I couldn't think that the Inquisition had  _any_ time to save the books that were in Haven.

My chest pinged with pain. It wasn't necessarily the Library of Alexandria, but even so.

"One moment you're trying to restore order in a world gone mad, that should be enough for anyone to handle, yes?" He tossed the question at me, but drilled on without any reply from my locked up mouth. The next book was dropped at his feet."Then, out of nowhere, an Archdemon appears and  _kicks_  you in the head!"

My brow pinched. I hadn't recalled him being close enough to see the dragon, but he may have been told.  _What would he know what the Archdemon looked like? Do they keep records of the Blight somewhere?_  They must have, but that was a question to file away later.

"What! You thought this would be  _easy_?" He scoffed, the layers of sarcasm and shrill impersonation of being offended had my mouth ticking at the corners.  _I will not laugh. Not yet. Not even if he's inside my head with that_ exact  _train of thought._

" _No_ ," he drawled, sarcasm dripping on the word, his hands took a stack of books and tossed them onto the chair behind him, " _I_  was just hoping you wouldn't crush our village like an anthill." A hand of mine came up to my mouth and smothered the grin that painted itself across my face.

He ploughed on, "Sorry about that! Archdemons like to crush, you know. Can't be helped." My left arm folded across my middle and held the elbow of my right arm in place, just to make sure my hand didn't slip away from my mouth as a vague chuckle bubbled up my throat. Finally, the mage glanced in my direction fully and cocked a hip, a graceful hand settled on it.

"I suppose a  _proper_  introduction is called for, now that we're not  _running_  for our lives." He cleared his throat gently and bowed with the elegance of a dew-heavy flower, coming up just as easily. "Dorian of House Pavus, most recently of the Tevinter Imperium."

I tipped my head, not trusting myself to bow with quite the same grace. "Jaime Wyatt, the current owner of this circus."

His lips twitched, amused. "To explain – I was at Redcliffe when the Venatori assumed command of your southern mages. I only wish I could have given more warning." My right hand had rested on my shoulder after our introductions, but I raised it to appease him. Apologizes for things he couldn't control were smoke to the wind.

"You did what you could, with what you had. No sense in borrowing trouble from yesterday or tomorrow." I said, crossing my arms down along the plane of my stomach. It was a challenge not to mirror his stance and cock a hip as well, it was almost too easy to allow myself to be casual in his presence.  _Was that the point? He is trying to get me to play along?_

I was paranoid, I could admit that much.

"Clever phrase, I'll take that if you don't mind." He tipped his head, mustache twitching. "I apologize it's taken nearly three weeks to have this conversation, but, you've been busy."

"I have gotten shit-all finished." I replied, grinning. The soldiers and civilians had done most of the work. No one would allow me near a hammer or a plank of wood out of fear that I would die from it, regardless that my bruising had healed. The ribs were still tender, but the point of the matter was moot.

"As you've said, you've done what you could." He smirked, a graceful had flipped in my direction.

"Could I ask a potentially relationship-ending question?" I jutted the conversation in another direction, curiosity peaked. He raised a sculpted eyebrow and waited with a tilt of his chin. "Could you explain what a Magister is?"

He blinked. "What? You're  _not_ assuming I'm one?"

" _Are_  you?" I returned his blink, confused. Josephine and Leliana had titled him as such, but when he introduced himself, he had made no such claim. From what one would hear tell, someone – a mage – from Tevinter would not hesitate to make it perfectly clear how far below them you stood.

I was hoping his sarcasm was a bit like mine, but prejudices could run deep.

"I know it's all the same to southerners, but… I suppose you wouldn't have that bias, would you?" He eyed me gently, the state of my dress far from noble or armed. I was, as always, nothing more than the orphaned schmuck stuck in this rutting mess. Passively, I grinned at him when his eyes came back to my face.

"To clarify, no, I'm not." He huffed, amused. "All members of the Magisterium – and thus all magisters – are mages, but not  _all_  mages are part of the Magisterium."

"Ah, I see." I nodded, "Everyone here is a citizen of Thedas, but not  _everyone_ is Tevinter?"

He laughed with a clap of his hands. "Snub my nose first, would you? Good analogy. Crude, but it works. It isn't to imply I'm just  _any_  mage, of course, but let's not start with incorrect assumptions."

"Speaking of assumptions," my attention jumped again, "there was mention of the Venatori. Could you give me an idea of what we're looking at here?"

"Right to the gut of the matter, I see." He sighed deeply, but his mouth tugged a bit with a smile. "I see my looks aren't as distracting as they used to be."  _Oh ho, is that what we're doing now?_  Maybe I had read the messages wrong, he – or rather,  _I_  – didn't seem to be the right type. Perhaps I was wrong?

"They're distracting, all right," I appeased, laughing, "but you're just not  _quite_  at the tier of Archdemon, I would have to say." And by god, I nearly died when his hand came up to curl at his mustache, his haughty huff playing into his role beautifully.

"I would never stoop to disfigurement, my dear." He chuckled and rested both his hands on his hips, pondering my question. "Moving on; the Venatori. Fools, really, so desperate to restore the Imperium's  _glory days_ , they'd sacrifice our nation's soul."

_Patriotism_ , I marked off mentally.

Anger tinted him, "They made an offer to your mage rebels to join forces, but I'd bet they didn't leave the outcome to chance." Long, genteel fingers gripped his hips, restraining himself from either pacing or going back to menace the bookshelf again.

"The result is the army you saw at Haven," he continued, his nose scrunched moodily, "this  _Elder One_ has more magic than you can shake a stick at."  _That idiom exist here?_  Distracted, but I focused on a glittering button thoughtfully.

"I mean, that much we knew when he managed to command a dragon to shit on us." So there was nothing new about that, and Varric's story had made it clear that without Hawke's father, the beast would have been left to roam the world as he saw fit. They had delayed the destruction, but not stopped it.

Dorian snorted, "Charming. Still, knowing that, I wasn't about to allow him to wipe you clean just yet."

"What you did for us at Haven was very brave." I honored that. A single soul without any sort of help or guidance or actual responsibility to us, and yet he drove through the snow and the mountains to save what he could. My heart squeezed between my ribs, aching at the idea of it.

"It was, wasn't it?" He smirked, unaware of my trauma, "Throwing my lot with the underdogs, that's me." He rolled his shoulders and crossed his arms, a few of his fingers coming to glide along the underside of his chin.

"Copper for your thoughts?" I nudged the conversation.

"Much more than coppers for them," he teased, "I… I always assumed the  _Elder One_ behind the Venatori was a magister, but  _this_ … is something else completely."

My head cocked, my hands behind my back. "What do you mean?"

"In Tevinter, they say the Chantry's tales of magisters starting the Blight are just that:  _tales._ " He shook his head, a twinge of disgust pulled at his lips and wrinkled his eyes, shoulders stiff. "But here we are. One of those very magisters. A darkspawn."

"Hold a sec." I interrupted, captured by something else. "Are – did I hear that implication right? Does Tevinter not follow the Chantry?"

"Oh, sweet thing." He cooed at me gently, surprised. "You don't know much of the world, do you? I'm not terribly surprised – but yes, Tevinter has its own version of events that differ from your Chantry."

I raised a hand, my eyes shutting tight for a moment. "Nope, never mind. We'll… touch on that some other time. Venatori. Corypheus. Mages. That's what we need to deal with, first."

"Agreed." He laughed. "I will happily give you a history lesson at some other time. For now, we must deal with my idiot countrymen."

"And you're here because… you want to fight them?" I asked with a hint of confusion. "Not two beats ago you were concerned for the state of your country."

"My  _country._ " Dorian stressed with a small lean forward. "The Imperium is a land of lies built upon secrets built upon falsehoods. I knew what I was taught couldn't be the whole truth," he shifted on his feet, hands on his hips bouncing with every other word. "But I  _assumed_  there had to be a kernel of it.  _Somewhere_."

"Darkspawn?" I followed along, concerned at his mounting ire.

" _Us_ ," Dorian added with a sharp hiss, "The darkspawn that  _we_  turned into. We destroyed the world."

"Wait a tick, I just told you not to go borrowing trouble." I shifted on my feet, " _You_  didn't do anything. Those men did, thousands of years ago." The small space that we occupied growing smaller as his emotions ran on high. Not that I was a wealth of patience myself, I could only imagine this was what Cassandra had to deal with when I went on a hysterical rant.

Dorian exhaled, slowing down. " _True_ , except that one of them is up and walking around right now. And as I mentioned, I have idiot countrymen who would happily follow him down that path again."

I raised my hands, defeated by the line of logic.

"I have no intention of letting Corypheus win. Not without  _someone_  from Tevinter standing against him." His arms crossed against his chest this time, his dark eyes sharpened their focus on my face and he stood at his height, proud. "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to stay and help the Inquisition."

_Could he be a spy?_ Doubtful. If he was, his masters took a stupid bet on the Inquisition surviving the shitstorm that was Haven. Or they hadn't planned to kill us, or he was back up in case we did, somehow, manage to survive. Leliana had already made mentioned she hadn't been able to clear him yet, but with Skyhold in the ruckus that it was, whatever information he had already passed along was gone.

"You'll have to be on a tight leash for now." I acquiesced, my arms relaxing at my sides. "You'll keep to the main fort and here, anything you need will be purchased through Josephine or Leliana. Any jobs you'll do will be through me, yeah?"

He grinned, "For all that they painted you a dollop, you're not as mindless as they tell it. Accepted, Herald. I always did look good in rope."

A snort escaped me. I wound my index fingers in a circle, rewinding the conversation.

"Seriously, I don't look  _that_  ditzy. Assholes." I muttered with a sigh. "Next, now that  _that's_  out of the way. What  _can_  you tell me about the Imperium or the Blight? Any clue how he got that dragon?"

Dorian snorted softly. "No idea, really. You know how it is, fingers pointed elsewhere.  _Not us._ "

"So that's why the belief of the Chantry… or  _your_  Chantry is different? There's no mention of something like Corypheus in your history?" I prodded. Something created this creature. Varric knew of Corypheus only has he was, and is, but not how he came to be. The monster sprung from a hole in the ground and then swallowed them up in it.

"They say darkspawn were always there; Magisters and the Blight aren't even related." Dorian tightened his mouth, the corners of his eyes wrinkled. "Is  _that_  a surprise? No one wants to admit they shit the bed."

A bark of laughter escaped me. Articulated curse words always got me.

Dorian smirked slightly, but anger still heated his face. "It is left to be said, if Corypheus is one of the Magisters who entered the Black City and he's a darkspawn… what other explanation is there?"

"Could we consider that he's lying and just fixated on Tevinter?" I countered, the heels of both my hands coming up to rub into my eyeballs. "I've seen the Templars when they've been infected with red lyrium, and though I haven't seen possessed mages, Vivienne says they're not so dissimilar."

"Hmm." He considered my question, dark eyes dancing over our feet and back up to my face once my hands dropped to my hips. "Possibly. Anyone could fabricate  _how_  they got into the Black City, but… there is too much detail, and he seemed perfectly capable of ripping the heavens open a second time."

My eyebrows ticked lazily, "It was a thought. No one seems to know  _where_  he came from, and he claims Tevinter, but I could say I was the Queen of Thedas with this thing on my hand. Fear does stupid things."

He opened his mouth, then closed it and considered the statement. In some vein, his world and mine weren't so different in that they had both come tumbling down, the ideals of religion, logic, and reality all blown up into smoke. My head tilted, waiting for him. I couldn't imagine the whirlwind of thoughts.

"... you're really angry, huh?" I asked dumbly, surprised. Anyone would be angry at a hell-beast ripping the heavens apart and terrorizing their lands, but Dorian steamed with a personal sense of injustice, boiling with internal fury for something he, personally, hadn't been responsible in committing. My weight shifted back on my heel, my gaze over him renewed.

"The Imperium is my  _home_ ," he answered vehemently, "Southerners like to think of the Imperium as nothing but slavers and cultists. Why not? That's all you see."

"Hey now." I protested lamely, Bull's  _Vint_  comment and my own biting my ass.

" _Exactly_ ," he continued with a harsh frown, "it's not true. Some Tevinters are not only handsome and well-dressed, but rather put off by all that  _rot_. So. I will  _happily_  kill cultists, or anyone who thinks a darkspawn god is the way of the future."

I studied him, my voice quiet. "... No one is going to thank you for this, you know that, right?" Because he was Tevinter, because he was a mage, because he was flippant, flamboyant, feckless, egotistical, and any number of other first-impressions someone could label him with and judge him. He was all the things I had worried about for the rebel mages. People looked sideways at Vivienne because of her beauty and confidence, and used her magic as an excuse to be rude.

Dorian blinked at me, his demeanor softening. "No one will thank you, either. You know that."

"I do." I answered, just as quiet, strange sense of warmth going through me;  _you get it_. "But this isn't about being thanked. I've made a home here. I can't let someone take that without a fight."

"Well." Dorian smiled, a true one. "In that much, we are agreed. At the very least, you'll get it from me;  _thank you_."

-0-

Dorian, I had come to find, was a historian. Intensely and passionately in love with the history of his country and how it had come to be, powerhouse or no. I had spent the better part of the hour with him, collecting the books he had tossed around. Majority of them were copies, repeats in different editions, all useless by Dorian's standards.

"If you could ask your ambassador for much more  _suitable_  material, that would be grand." Dorian took the books I handed him and stacked them onto the table nearby, the discard pile. There was a mountain of them, and yes, all of them were going to be tossed.

"What would you classify as suitable material?" I questioned, watching as he took the few rarer and older copies to replace on the shelf. A few of them were switched around and I assumed he was placing them in alphabetical order.

"Considering what we will be dealing with, anything on Tevinter." He paused, his mustache twitching, his fingers gentle on the binding of a book. "... I'll send a note down. We'll need a tradesman from Tevinter, my apologies, but I couldn't trust the editions in the south."

"That, I can understand." I laughed. "Back home, we had a book that was copied and edited thousands of times, and everyone argues on which one is the  _right_  one."

"Isn't that just the thing, though?" Dorian smirked at me, taking another small stack from my arms to set on the shelf. "I am a firm believer in facts and the followings of experimentation and science." It was my turn to hesitate, because now we touched on events that were still in the fog. Whatever had happened at Redcliffe that consequently brought the mages on our doorstep needed to be a cleared flag in our timeline.

"Ser Pavus —" I started.

"Oh, no, no,  _no_ ," Dorian tutted, turning to me and promptly tapping the top of my head with a book, stunning me. "Let's break that habit right this moment. You may call be Dorian, my dove, and not much else."

"Ah," I fumbled, tongue thick. "Ooh… 'kay."

He laughed. "Aren't you just darling? Southern charm, I don't get to see it too often." There was a beat of silence as he continued to place away his books. A flush had come to my face, heating up my cheeks and quietly, I tried to gather my scattered thoughts.

"Darling," Dorian quipped softly, "your question?"

"Ah, right." My throat cleared, the books shifting in my arms. "Could you, if it's not too upsetting, give me a rundown of what happened in Redcliffe? You were there, you said?"

"Unfortunately," he huffed. The stack was cleared from my arms and he took a final look at them, critiquing his placement of them all. "I had followed my former mentor, Gereon Alexius, to Redcliffe. I was attempting to stop him and his foolishness, offering the mages refuge." He turned away from his books and offered me the chair up against the wall, but with a shake of my head, he took the seat instead.

"What was he trying to do?" I took a few steps over to lean up against the bookshelf, my hands laced together in front of me, resting at the dip of my thighs. "It's one hell of a leap to go from needing protection to being the mass of an army."

"They're not just your southern mages." Dorian murmured darkly. "The Elder One had collected a few followers from the fringes of Tevinter, the dying and desperate that couldn't be a part of the Magisterium." He raised his hands and rubbed them together before they stayed steepled along his mouth.

"That would explain the numbers, yeah." I replied quietly. My hips shifted against the books.

"Alexius had found himself in the service of The Elder One nearly a year or so before, by my reckoning." Dorian tapped at his chin with his laced hands. "According to him, the God in question had the power to bring his son's health back in order." My head tilted in surprise, brow raised silently.

"You see, a while back as they were traveling back to their home in Tevinter for the winter, they were set upon by hurlocks. They drove them back, but at the lost of Livia's life and Felix's health. He became afflicted with the Blight through the darkspawn blood." Dorian closed his eyes, pained. His hands came apart and one rubbed at his chin, a sigh escaping his lips.

A lot of information had come up through that simple statement.  _Hurlocks_ , for one, was an unknown word to me, but context given it was a subcategory of darkspawn. At the very least, this gave me some idea that there were different breeds and not just infectious zombies that walked the earth. Notably, being a young child caught in the throes of a Blight, I wouldn't know the backend of a hurlock from anything else, so my ignorance was plausible.

_Wife and son_ , another notable piece of information to Leliana.

"So, Corypheus snatched him up because he was a mage and sorrow makes us do stupid things?" I questioned softly.

"Not quite." Dorian shook his index finger. "Alexius and his wife Livia were top of their masteries. Livia was studying the Veil and the effects of our experiments on it. Alexius and I were experts at thaumaturgy — such has creating new means of magic and access to it, and we were attempting to — reshape the boundaries of magic."

I pondered for a moment. "Because… magic comes from the Fade, and if you're… so, wait, you're rewriting the rules before breaking them?" Because if Livia had been there for the studies of the Veil, like Solas, then the assumption was they were trying to break through it, much like the Mark on my hand.

_Ooooh._ The light bulb flickered over my head.  _That's why it had to be him, his son was just an opportunity to snatch it up._

Dorian clapped his hands, "Look at you! Not even a mage, and you're startling fast. Yes, my dove, we were. We speculated that if there was a way to utilize the Fade without the direct need of magic, then it would be little else to be able to make it accessible to everyone."

"Wait, what?" I backpedalled. "I thought… well. Prejudice, I guess. Oops."

"You thought the mages across the border just wanted to hoard it all for ourselves, hm?" Dorian smirked, unexpectedly pleased. He shrugged his shoulders, "You're not entirely wrong, but… Alexius and I were driven by our need to better our country. Long before I met him, he was already a well-known figure that pushed for education and funding our schools rather than that blasted war with the Qunari."

"... Did he end up with Corypheus because of the promise of resurrecting old Tevinter?" I asked, my fingers tightening in my lap. The use of his son's health would have been a clever ploy, one that Corypheus could no doubt twist if he had spells or cures from years old that could help.

"Heavens, no." Dorian gently spat. "There's nothing in our past worth dragging back up. We may not be the perfection the nobility demand, but we're far better than we were hundreds of years ago."

"Got'cha." I murmured. "So then, Corypheus came up and told him he could fix Felix?"

Dorian stewed. " _Yes_ , and I had warned Alexius that no such thing existed. Once you're tainted, that's it, nothing saves you — no cure, no spell, no magic. Only the Wardens know how to hold off the taint, but that usually comes with the promise of becoming one of them."

I blinked, surprised. "Yeah. Not something a noble family wants to do, lose a son."  _Would Blackwall know? Could we cure Felix and stop some of those mages?_  Something to ask my Warden when I had the chance.

"Ha," Dorian laughed darkly, a sour snarl to his lips. "One  _would_  think that, no? In any case, he and I parted ways, until I heard about the madness he was conjuring in Redcliffe. Apparently, the way to save Felix was to go back in  _time._ "

There was a deep pause. And then from my mouth; "You're shitting me."

"I  _dearly_  wish I was, my dove." Dorian tapped the heel of his palm on the armrest. "Alexius had managed to create a pendant that, with enough energy, could rip a hole in the Veil and throw you back in time."

"Where the fuck would you go?" I breathed, disbelieving. "How — the fuck do you control  _where_  you go?"

"You couldn't." Dorian explained, angered. "And that's the  _point_  I was trying to explain to him, that going back in time wouldn't guarantee that Felix would survive;  _nor_  would it guarantee that you would even come to the  _right_  place in time to do so."

"There's too many variables." I muttered, my hands coming up to my mouth in shock. My brow dipped over my eyes as my gaze shifted to the floor. "The paradoxes would be astronomical. The power to get there, the power to  _stop_ , and how the fuck would you judge  _where_  you were…" I glanced up when I realized it had gone silence in my mutterings, Dorian watched me with a curious eye and tilted his head.

"Sorry," I waved a hand, "distracted. Sounds interesting, but extremely dangerous."

"Quite." He took a longer moment to spy over me. A curious glance over my face later, "Such as it is, it failed. The Elder One was not pleased."

A chilled whisper went up my back, "... is he dead? Alexius?"

"No." Dorian whispered, grieved. "But Felix is."

"Oh no," my inhale caught my words. "Corypheus killed him?"

"Naturally." Dorian spread his hands, a nasty, angered sneer on his mouth. "The whole promise hinged on Alexius creating such a device, so: no pendant, no Felix. Incinerated, so Alexius would have nothing to bury." And though Felix had been Alexius' son, there was no hiding the tremor in Dorian's words despite his face; he was hurting too. A tiny piece of my heart broke for him, and with a heavy sigh, I raised my hands to my face and rubbed my cheeks.

"... sorry doesn't cut it, but I am." I murmured to the mage. "I knew the mages were in Redcliffe, Grand Enchanter Fiona had invited us there after the rally in Val Royeaux. I didn't… think they'd get so desperate so quick."

"My darling dove." Dorian waited until I looked up at him, his form leaned to the left in the chair. "Do not accept blame that is not yours to take. This — chaos was not your creation. Morbidly, at least now Felix will not see how far his father has fallen."

"What happened to him?" I questioned thickly. "I don't imagine Corypheus is the type to let failure stand, even if he killed the son."

"And you'd be right to think so." Dorian clicked his teeth. "Alexius is being put to work, transforming the mages into those atrocities. He forces them to drink red lyrium and sleep draught. Once asleep in the Fade, the demons come."

"Fucking hell," I spat vehemently, my hands right back up into my face and the heels of my palms pressed into my sockets. "That explains so much and I hate it."

"As do I." Dorian bit out. "Because from what I could gather, it's  _only_  the Southern mages that are being transformed. The  _Venatori_  remain as they are."

"Oh fuck that shit." I snapped, my hands slapped against my sides, smoky anger ghosting up my insides. "No fucking wonder — hell yes, my friend, you get your request. Any Venatori missions come up, you're on."

A beautiful, toothy smile graced his lips. " _Wonderful._ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Hawke.


	10. ACT II: Accountability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime has to take responsibility for the things that happen to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehehe. Don't be upset.

I had left Dorian to his own devices in his little sanctuary of a half of a library. Little known fact, Dorian was an absolute bookworm. I wasn't much of a reader myself, my preferences leaning more toward art and crafts, but I could appreciate someone else's love of books. Briefly, I wondered if he and Solas would get along. Granted, the elf hardly,  _truly_  became friends with anyone. I balanced on the edge of the knife between possible friend and complete annoyance with him at the best of times.

Wandering back down the stairway to the rotunda, I could see a few of Solas' affects taking up the low shadows of the room, his multiple staves taking up another, glinting in the low torch light. As I walked out, I could spy what looked like clay bowls and pots, lidded and carefully wrapped with wool. Resisting the urge to snoop through my friend's things (wouldn't want to be an  _annoyance_ ), I headed into the main hall when a shadow came up along my left.

Varric grinned at me, the backlight of the sun framing him in an angelic light. A snort escaped me and I fought down a laugh, waiting for the dwarf to get within earshot. He raised an eyebrow at me, amusement on his face, but the tone of his voice was far from humor.

"My guest is here." He whispered, words tight. "Up in the battlements. If we could have but a moment of your time?" He bowed his head with a mock flap of his hand.  _Where did this come from? He's not normally so darkly sarcastic. Is he angry?_  I hadn't seen Varric use quite as much sarcasm on me. With a nod, I followed my dwarven friend from the main fort and through the scenery up to the battlements. The place was quiet, the main hustle of the fort being in the courtyards and gates below.

The wind whipped a little harder up at the top of the tower, the sunlight keeping our shadows close so as to avoid any suspicion. I tightened my coat around my body, my hair a wild mess around my ears and face, the chill biting my lips. Leliana's words floated back to me between the whispers of wind; I would have to take a great amount of care to make sure Cassandra didn't find out about this meeting while Varric was around. Lying to a  _Seeker_  was just out of the question.

"Good afternoon." The greeting came to me gently, the voice rumbling with deep exhaustion, honeyed with a warmth that came from sleep rather than charm, despite it being a little after midday. A swallow flashed down my throat, my gaze glued to the man in front of me; his visage was devastating, and not in the way many in my culture would have considered classically handsome.

"My name is Gaige Hawke, but I suspect you already know that." The grin was just as gentle. He slouched to one side, a hip cocked with his weight pressed against it, arms crossed at his broad chest. The tan skin had taken on a touch of burnt ends, darkened by dirt or sun over the last few years. The armor was bloodied, dried and old, scarred not just on the edges from use, but across his chest and a deep groove over his right thigh.

"I'm… Jaime Welton, Ser Hawke." My body stuttered as he smirked.  _Do we shake hands, do we bow? I know he was part of a noble family, but the story didn't give much else to work on._ Hawke saved me; he reached out with an armored hand, clawed almost like a lizard's foot, for a shake. I took what I was offered, an embarrassed heat brushing up my cheeks.

"Please," he shook his head, "Hawke works just fine. It's good to finally meet you, Varric talks about you a lot." It was clearer now, as my gaze came up to his face. It wasn't a smirk that I spied on his mouth, but the upward tilt in place by a scar that reached his right eye. Part of it was hidden by the black scruff of beard coming in, and his copper-tinted green eyes masked a lot of flaws from his face with their intensity.

_He_ sounds _tired, but I've got no doubt he's on full alert. Yikes._

"All good things, I would hope." It was hard to relax in his presence. Was that my own anxiety or the sheer presence of the man himself? Varric wove tales taller than the trees when it came to his best friend whenever the opportunity rose, but there was a slim chance that any of those were actually exaggerated once someone stood next to Hawke.

"Mostly." Varric tweeted cheerfully from behind me. A roll of my eyes earned me a chuckle from Hawke and the man took the opportunity to lead me toward the outer edge of the battlement and gestured that I take a seat against the parapet wall. Weird images of being tossed over the wall flirted with my mind and I was just as quick to shove them out. No need to start making enemies with weird jokes or thoughts like that.

"How does one start this conversation, I wonder?" He turned toward me and I vehemently kept my eyes to the ground in front of me. There was an uncertainty that rolled through my stomach, nausea echoed up through my ribs and I could not fathom what was causing the turmoil.  _Magic?_  From the stories, from Varric, nothing about Hawke painted him a mage, only his sister Bethany managed to be born with it.

Until the light of my left palm flickered between my fingers.

"It's a mess." I said in lieu of my surprise.  _Of fucking course. He's new, he's not in the normal sphere of influence. I'm not used to him and his emotions._ Fucking weird, batman, but I wasn't going to drop that bomb on an outsider, regardless if Varric trusted him or not.

"I'll agree with you there. I would have thought all of this would have ended with us, down in the Vimmark Mountains." He kicked his legs out and hooked his ankles together, his arms crossed again over his chest as he leaned back against the stone, his eyes turned up to the sky. The coiled muscles within my shoulders gently uncurled as his attention shifted from me.

"He's a tough sonovabitch, I'll give him that." I answered, smacking my right open palm against my left fist, trying to hide the light that glinted from within. The tails of my coat danced around my thighs. "Update, he's got a dragon now."

Hawke actually laughed. "Well, why wouldn't he? Every villain needs one." A brief pop of a smile touched my lips and I shrugged; didn't want to ruin the mood by mentioning said dragon had been pretty close to swallowing the upper half of my body in one bite.

"So. Dragon aside, we know he's got magic." I ticked up my thumb from my right hand, starting the count and following with the other fingers. "We know he's Tevinter, he's got the mages, and we know he's shit-balls crazy." Hawke ended up laughing harder with a clapped hand against his chest, perhaps at the fact that I had given my assessment with as straight of a face as I could.

"I see why Varric likes you," his eyes gleamed at me, highly amused, "very… ah, to the point."

"Told you she was a charmer." Varric grinned from the mouth of the stairway, waiting to deter any unwanted attention or visitors. Another harmless shrug from me and we were back to being somber, with Hawke reconsidering me out of the corner of his gaze.

"So." I aligned us back to the task at hand. "What can you tell me about our blighted asshole?"

"Blighted?" Hawke pinned me with a sharp side glance. He turned to Varric. "Is he?"

"I don't know." Varric replied, his gaze shifting to me for a moment. "I wasn't there. She's the only one that saw him." I frowned,  _throw me under the bus, will you?_  Though he wasn't wrong, even with the companions I  _had_  taken, no one had been with me when he trampled his way in and nearly stole my arm.

"He is, or at least I  _think_ he is." I answered, rolling up the sleeve of my coat on my left arm. The Mark glittered brightly against my skin, the scar stretched across my palm from Corypheus' attempts to rip the Anchor from my body. The lacerations from his claws marred my arm, jagged and knotted slices over the length of it, like a badly drawn tattoo-sleeve. Magic had healed most of it. Hawke peered over at my arm, a clawed hand reached out and hesitated just under my wrist.

I set my limb in his open palm for inspection. "He's got some big claws, too, but I don't think they're armor. He's got the red lyrium coming out of him like a old woman's pin-cushion."

"I remember." Hawke sighed, turning my arm over, but his eyes were clearly on my palm. "He had managed to catch Anders across the back with them once or twice. The blight wasn't — not like the red lyrium. He was just grotesque."

"You're telling me, he looks like a barnacle come to life." I took my arm back once Hawke released it, rolling down the sleeve against the chill of the wind. "But the blight does look new, because it's cracking some of his — what the fuck you call 'em?" I gestured to my chest, the massive plates that had shield the monster's body.

"I know what you mean. Yes, those weren't there before. Must've happened sometime between the last two or so years." Hawke speculated, tapping his chin with the curl of his index finger. "That means to tell me he must have been underground for sometime."

I blinked, spying Varric and snapping my fingers at him. "The — hey, that shit at the Temple? You said — it's the same shit, I bet. And at Therinfal, there was crates of it, they were distilling it to be drinking lyrium that they were poisoned with, now that I remember."

"Where in the Temple was the red lyrium appearing?" Hawke kept his gaze on me, expression dark.

"Not in it. The Temple had been blasted out, down to the ground level, so it was coming up — or exposed by the blast. You don't think he was hiding  _there_  the whole time, do you?" I asked, my brow shot up in alarm. Two years was a long time to go, but it didn't correlate with what Dorian had told me before.  _Agents, maybe? Could he have made a base in the Temple and then opportunity arose when the Divine showed up?_

"Doubtful, that creature didn't seem the type to rest on his laurels." Hawke leaned back against the parapet wall, thoughtful. "Though that would explain how he was able to control the darkspawn."

"Fuck." I swore quietly. "You're serious?"

"Unfortunately. When we were at Vimmark, my group and I managed to kill him — however permanent  _that_  was, with some help with from the Grey Wardens." Hawke smiled slightly at my curse.

"Question; Anders? In Varric's story, he was affected by the Calling — did that happen to the other Wardens?" I asked, concern started to bloom at the bottom of my gut.  _Could Blackwall be in danger? Wardens are all connected through something that let's them fight the darkspawn and Corypheus can control that, but what?_

Hawke nodded. "They were. He somehow used his connection to the darkspawn to influence them, tricks them into thinking they're dying. That's what the Calling is, from my understanding. The last moments before they turn into darkspawn themselves."

"How do you know that?" My brow pinched over my nose, my arms crossed across my pelvis.

"Bethany." Hawke sighed the name. "Grey Wardens are secretive, she can't tell me much, but she tells me enough." Electricity shot through my body with a violent bolt and my back straightened with a near-audible snap;  _his sister's a Warden!_

"Do you know where they went?" I veered off topic like a drunkard, grasping for the thread of information. "Blackwall hasn't got the foggiest clue, but he's been in the Hinterlands for a while now. Is Bethany still with them?" Hawke hesitated, his eyes narrowed on my face. The muscles of my face suppressed a wince,  _stupid, he's going to think you're going to use her._

"She's good for it, Hawke." Varric came to my rescue, quiet from the stairs. "Jaime only wants information, she doesn't use people like that." Visibly, Hawke relaxed, his scarred face softening without a single look to his friend for second reassurances.

"No. The minute I found out that Corypheus could do such a thing, I sent word to Aveline and had her take Bethany and her closest Wardens out of Ferelden," he answered quietly. "When the Breach appeared, I imagine she was well away from the chaos."

"Would the Wardens have no interest in the Divine's Conclave?" I pressed for more information. Despite not having concrete information as to where she and any other Wardens had gone to, the fact that she was  _alive_  was a cookie crumble more than I had before to offer Leliana.

"According to Bethany, no." Hawke shook his head, "But Stroud says differently, given that the Wardens disappeared around the same time as the Breach appearing." Bits and pieces of the puzzle clattered together in my head, rattling and cracking like building blocks that I couldn't keep up in any shape.  _I'm missing something, there's a piece somewhere in the ether that I don't have yet. Damnit._

"Wardens disappear with the Breach. Mage circle breaks. Templars leave. Corypheus shows up." My mutterings were rushed under my breath, trying to sort through the ricocheting thoughts. "Templars hostage at Therinfal, mages enslaved at Redcliffe. Wardens gone. I'm still missing the Wardens, but where the fuck did they go?"

Hawke tilted his head, watching me. "Good to know you and I have the same priority. If the Wardens disappeared, he may have taken control of them again, or all those within reach."

"I can't work on maybes." I replied with a shake of my head, my gaze brought up from the ground. "I need proof. I need something, I can't go on a wild goose chase."

"I've got a friend in the Wardens who's still in the area." Hawke pursed his lips, his gaze flickering off my right shoulder for a moment. "He was investigating something unrelated for me. Stroud. Last we spoke, he was worried about corruption in the Warden ranks. Since then; nothing."

"Corypheus would certainly qualify as corruption in the ranks." Varric interjected, taking a few steps toward us. "Did your friend disappear with them?"

"No. He told me he'd be hiding in an old smuggler's cave near Crestwood." Hawke placed his hands on his hips. "He's been on the run since before the Conclave, hiding from his kin."

"If he's hiding, what did you have him investigating?" I asked, confused. All of that sounded counterproductive. The wind picked up a bit around us, the sun had crawled through the sky from midday to the first sigh of evening, the fort rapidly cooling around us.

"When you mentioned the red lyrium earlier, I asked about it because the Templars in Kirkwall were using a strange form of lyrium as well. It was red." Hawke explained, his voice pitched low against the wind. The words carried to me easily as they floated between us. Another chill stole up my back and I glanced at Varric. The dwarf nodded, his mouth set into a grim line of guilt.

"The Templars at Therinfal, they looked like bloated masses, red spears of the lyrium coming up from their chests and it seemed to swallow them whole." I murmured, watching his face. His temples twitched and a fanged tooth flashed under his scruffed lips in a silent snarl.

"One in the same. They transformed right before my eyes as we fought." Hawke spat darkly. "I thought it would end at Kirkwall. It seems my mistakes never leave me."

"Can you get me to your friend?" I derailed him, keeping him from wallowing in his sorrow. I could empathize with him, truly, but we were on the cusp of something that could salvage the situation we had with Corypheus. "I'll take any lead I can get at the moment."

"Good." Hawke nodded. "I'll do whatever I can to help."

-0-

I left Varric and Hawke to their conversation not long after we set up the details to find Stroud. A bird or more later, Hawke would have confirmation that Stroud was back in Crestwood before leading us out there. I would need to update my War Council about the situation on the Wardens, Leliana specifically. My ribs and lungs vibrated with nerves, stealing my breath as I made my way down from the battlements, quiet and in deep contemplation.

So deep, it seemed, that I didn't spy a certain Qunari come up behind me, his shadow overtaking mine. I hadn't noticed his hand come to my shoulder, either, but at least I was alert enough to come around in a spin to elbow his gut when his hand finally dropped against my neck. It barely phased him as he bent with my blow, but his wheezing laugh sent a shot of heat through my stomach and to my knees.

"You asshole!" I hissed, smacking his shoulder with the back of my hand for good measure. "Why are you sneaking up on me!"

"Sneaking!" Bull wheezed, another hiccuping laugh catching his words. "For once, honest, I  _wasn't_  — I came right up behind you like a normal person." He straightened, but kept a hand over the small patch of muscle I had slammed with my elbow.

"There's nothing normal about coming up behind someone." I groused, flushed red to my ears. "You could have called out or something, shit."

"I  _did_ ," Bull stressed, greatly and terribly amused at my expense. "I even used your name and you just kept on walkin'. Something big on your mind, boss?" And just as quick as the heat of embarrassment flashed through me, so did the cold crack of rain to douse it.  _Ben Hassrath._ Spy. How much could I tell the Qunari about the Wardens and Corypheus? I had no doubt in my mind about his people already knowing about the demon-mage, but what else would he tell them?

_I need to talk to Leliana._

"Something big, yeah." I answered, going for the half-truth and omitting the rest. "Leliana is going to have to help me sort it. What — time is it? What are you doing out here?" With a glance around, the dusky evening blanketed us from above, the frost swirling around our ankles as the temperature continued to fall, the distant cheers and singing from the tavern not far off.

"Looking for you." He rumbled, his head tilted to one side, smirk faint. "Haven't seen you in two or three weeks and this is how I'm greeted? That's unfair, I heard Krem got a hug."

" _Fuck_  you," I said intelligently, my gut churning violently, my ears about to melt off. "I saw that you got back a few days ago, you didn't say anything then."

His brow went up over his eye-patch. "Well, what with the ceremony and the rebuilding, I figured you'd be busy and would come to see me when you weren't." I hated this, I felt a rope around my neck tugging me in and there was a desperation to keep myself from tumbling forward into his flirting. My heart thundered in my ears at the implications.  _He does_ not _mean it that way, so get right the fuck off that train of thought, thirsty-ass._

"Poof," I tried weakly, flapping my arms once. "I'm here to see you. See? Magic." It earned me a snorting, hardline laugh. I wasn't sure if it was better or worse, I was trying to distract him and all I ended up doing was distracting myself. My eyes closed for a moment, pressed tightly together;  _I'm so far in this isn't even funny anymore._

"I think what you need is a drink, boss." Bull clapped a hand on my shoulder and shook me slightly. My body swayed under his grip and a heavy sigh slipped from my lips.

"I dunno, maybe. Did you already get set up in the tavern, then?" I asked, but a mischievous smirk flashed across his lips for the barest second. He released my shoulder only enough to turn me around with his fingers and push me forward.

"Not quite. I got something to show you that I think is going to help." Bull's hand ran down the length of my back to rest on the dip just before my hips. A line of fire had followed the edge of his hand all the way down and it took whatever shreds of willpower I had left by the end of it not to shiver.  _Motherfucker either doesn't know what he's doing to me or he does and I'm gonna kill him in his sleep._

His hand left my back as he stepped around to lead, "We should have something in your size."

" _What_  is that supposed to mean?" I shot him a hard glance. He only grinned and led us toward the dungeons of the fort. A frown touched my mouth; the Chargers had taken up in the dungeons. They weren't a large company, maybe fifty men or so altogether, and the cells were numerous enough to house all of them. Unsurprisingly, when I entered the dungeons behind Bull, the Chargers greeted him with friendly calls.

When I was spotted behind him, the crowd erupted into cat-calls.

"Shut the hell up, you tits!" I snapped at them over the teasing, a grin slapped to my face.  _These fuckers_. Laughter broke out around us and the faintest thought whispered through the back of my mind;  _what do they see that I don't? Surely they aren't taking the flirting seriously, right?_  I ignored the thought and followed Bull as he came around to the first nearest cell, the one I assumed he had taken for himself.

"Uh, Bull." I teased, laughing. "You do realize people are gonna see, right?"

"What, not into voyeurism?" He tossed back, leaning over at the chest by the foot of his bedding. My eyebrow rose in surprise,  _he sleeps on the floor here, too?_ It must've been the horns. Sleeping on any kind of 'conventional' bed would be a nightmare trying to turn or twist.  _Might just lay on his stomach when he sleeps._

And we were going to walk away from that thought at lightning speed. Yup.

"Here we are." Bull held up a very battered, weathered piece of clothing and welded armor. He looked over at me expectantly. Suspiciously, the group of mercenaries behind me had gone unnaturally quiet. Not quite silent, surely trying to play the part of polite eavesdroppers, but they weren't fooling me.

"What?" Fear flashed through me. "Are you expecting me to  _wear_  that?"

"Yes." He returned, placing it into my numb, unexpecting hands. "Humor me."

"I sure as hell know you're not expecting me to change  _here_!" I hissed, snatching the clothes from his grip, clutching them to my chest. "What the hell do I gotta wear this for?"

"There isn't really anywhere else to change. And it's not like I'm asking you to strip naked." Bull rumbled with humor, pleased with himself. He stepped around me and stood at the entrance of the cell, facing the outside of the cell. He was broad enough to block most of it, leaving me with enough privacy to change.

"... you're such a sonovabitch." I grumbled, wondering how I got roped into this mess. His chuckle floated over his shoulder and I turned away from him to hastily worm my way into the foreign clothing. The pants were just a inch too short, the tunic I had to tie to keep at my hips because tucking it in wasn't an option, and the chestplate winded me when I dropped it over my head.

"There," I griped, "now I really do look like an idiot."

"Nah, c'mon, boss." Bull turned to me, giving me a once over with his eye, "You look just fine."

"Can you please tell me what we're doing?" I asked. Bull shook his head and crooked his index finger at me to follow once more. My lips pouted and in his shadow I ghosted away from the cell, flipping off a rude gesture to the few laughing Chargers as I tripped in my boot laces. Outside, the sky had darkened from the blush of sunset to night, the moon peeking behind the main tower of the fort.

"You'll see." He answered once I was through the door he held open for me. "It'll be worth your time, I promise." Curiosity piqued, I remained silent and faithfully followed at his side, minding my steps to keep behind him, unsure of whatever attention would spy me in my weird garb.

"We've got a new batch of recruits." He began to explain as we walked the length of the courtyard to come down the stairs toward the stables. "Red had sent word that there were a collection of them on the outskirts of Orlais that needed an escort. I caught them on my way back."

Surprised, I turned to look up at him, "Recruits? From where?"

"All over." Bull shrugged. We passed the stables quietly to keep the horses from spooking. There was a darkened passage, a tunnel that cut through one part of the belly of the fort, leading out into the 'backyard' as it was designated by the friendlies. It was the expanse of land more than a league or so in length that housed our civilians and excess of low-priority people. New soldiers, recruits, and pilgrims set up tents from one end to the next.

There was a designated mess area near the center of the little makeshift village. Soldiers and civilians wandered around from end to end, some with supplies, others just tired, and some moving on to their next shift. Dots of people sat on crates and barrels, huddled together for warmth and comfort, their conversations low buzzes as we passed. Not a single one of them watched me as we walked past, but all their eyes would glance at Bull. He brought us up to a pair that sat together over a small table, his body shifting to a relaxed posture.

"Evening." He greeted, taking a seat. I bounced around him quickly to sit on his left side on a barrel. "Iron Bull, we're the merc band that just joined up." I knew a cover story when I heard one, so quietly I took up his left side and waited, glancing between him and the recruits.

"Tanner. I'm from Jader." The youngest answered, freckle-faced and pale, with new armor. "Well,  _near_  Jader."

"Mira." The other answered, the voice low and rough. Her face was scarred all along the right side, one eye dropping from the pull of skin. "I was a guard-captain for Lady Pendell. Signed on after shit blew up at the Conclave." Surprised, I glanced at her. Her voice was articulate, measured, with an accent that the young man didn't have.  _Separate worlds, then._

"Who's your friend?" Tanner popped in, his gaze drifted to me. I tucked my chin in, mouth small.  _Bull, I'm not sure what part you're expecting me to play here!_  The 'Herald' didn't have a uniform, and the sleeves of the tunic I wore were long enough that the Mark was hidden away, so I was a nobody for the moment.

The Qunari shot me a look, then grinned, "This is Grim. She doesn't talk much."

_Ah. Noted._

I grunted, screwing my mouth into a sideways frown.

The flash of a pleased grin on Bull's face was gone in a second after I noticed it, "So! You ready to kill some demons or Venatori… or whatever that Corypheus asshole is?" Mira leaned forward on her table's side, her hardened gaze inspecting Bull with a critical eye before she shook her head.

"This isn't about killing." She explained firmly. "We're helping the Inquisitor save the world and build the next Empire." The second grunt that escaped me was more surprise than play-acting. That had been a  _resolute_  statement, no questions asked, she knew exactly what she was meant to do. I turned to Bull, eyes wide.

"Well, long as I get paid, I'm happy." He ignored my look, picking up the conversation. "That's why I signed up." Omitting truths and giving half of an answer that sounded like a full one. Surely they would find out who he was later, the longer they stayed, but for now it would work to play as just a hireling.

_What are we looking for, Ben-Hassrath?_

Tanner nodded his head this time, "I just couldn't spend my whole life on a farm. Needed to live a little, you know?" With that, my ribs cracked and my heart shuddered.  _Good to know being a killer didn't take my heart. I kinda wish it did, though._ He was young, and now I wondered  _how_  young. He didn't sport as many scars on his face as Mira did and his experience was irritated farm animals, not demons.

I wanted to ask so many questions;  _why show up here? Why alone? Why did you leave home? Why!_  Bull must have seen the distress building up in my gaze.

"What about you, Mira?" Bull deflected, shifting my attention to the veteran. "Why'd you join up? I thought you were serving some noble?" The older woman considered the question, not as quickfire as her counterpart across the table. She folded her hands together, her heavy gaze shifting between Bull and myself. A mental note flared at the back of my mind;  _I need to tell Leliana about her. She's cautious. Assessing. Scary._

"I saw what happened at Haven." Her lips turned white as they pressed tight for a moment. "The Inquisitor staring down that  _monster_  and his archdemon…" Her head turned toward me, but I tipped my chin down to avoid her gaze.  _Does she recognize me, then? Are the clothes enough?_  I knew what she would see, and it would give our whole cover away. My teeth clenched tight and my jaw cracked. I had never stopped to think about what the  _soldiers_  saw when Haven fell.

Bull's heat at my side branded me as he shifted closer, our arms brushed together.  _I haven't asked what happened to him or the others, either. I just assumed they were dealing with it, like I was. Fuck. I'm an asshole._  Gently, my elbow grazed his and I shifted away, no sense in creating rumors so early with new recruits.

"I don't sing The Chant of Light as much as I should, but you can't see something like that and  _not_  believe." Mira finished, her gaze focused on her laced fingers. I lifted my head, peering at her and though I didn't know her well enough to tell, the Mark was clear with what she felt:  _sorrow_. I held my teeth together to bite back my tears.

Bull rescued me as he stood, "Well, it's getting late. Grim and I should find our tents. Thanks for your time." There was no hesitation and I attempted to leave my seat as calmly as I could, walking in the wake of my Qunari as he twisted his way around the tents, breaking our line of sight with the soldiers and making his way back toward the main fort. My hands wiped at my dry face, phantom tears setting off my paranoia.

What a contrast between the two. My heart thudded away in my chest painfully and I raised a hand to hold over it, rubbing against the tunic.  _Mira. Worn. Battle-tested. Veteran. I could feel the guilt and her pain. She wants to repent for the things she hasn't done. Oh, my poor creature._

And  _Tanner_. I wasn't sure if his recruitment was impulse or premeditated action. Did he see the passing troops and grab his bag to run with them? His armor was new. Did he purchase that on his own or did his family gear him up for this cause?  _Someone sent their son off to war._ I didn't have any kids myself, but I couldn't imagine my younger brother disappearing into the folds of the military.

Bull led us back out and the shadows of the main fort of Skyhold came over us. I trailed after him, silent as a mouse with my hands held to my chest in thought. I heard more than I saw his footsteps stop, but I walked forward and once my forehead hit the middle of his back, I stopped. A ragged inhale shook my lungs, I hadn't realized I was shaking until Bull's steady breathing was a comparison point.

We stood there, silent in the shadows for a good while before he turned to face me, stepping away as I looked up, exhausted by the day's events.  _Why did we do this? What purpose did it serve? Were you trying to teach me something?_ A fluttering thought echoed between the speeding ones:  _he's helping you_ ,  _he's trying to ground you._  He considered me with his only eye, the normal teasing humor muted in his expression.

"I know every soldier under my command." He started, voice low. " _You_  don't have that option, now as Inquisitor… but a few faces might help." For a split second, my shoulders bunched against my neck, a slash of accusation at the tip of my tongue for the stress. Reason fogged the anger when my thoughts proved true, he had only been trying to help.  _It's harder to tell yourself to keep going, but easier to watch someone else try._ A hard sigh ripped through my mouth instead, I brought my palms to my temples and pressed inward.

"... thank you, Bull." I finally answered, the vinyl record crack in my voice. "This was… good."

Bull tilted his head, the same assessing tint in his gaze. "Gives you a bit of perspective, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," I nodded my head, my hands falling to my side as our gazes met. "People like Tanner are looking for an easy win, but… veterans like Mira know better, and are cautious. I'm… going to pass her along to Leliana." There was a beat of silence before a near feral, proud, toothy smirk shaped his mouth.

"Right you are. Good eye, boss." He lauded, the smirk strong. "You've got a good army coming along. Remember that, no matter what comes next." A strange sort of twisted affection knotted my gut and turned it into loops. A warm, distant sadness followed it as a slow and devastating realization claimed me.

"Yeah," I forced myself to say, a painted smile switched on to my face. "Thank you, Bull. Have a good night."

"Good night, boss." He smiled this time, tipping his head as if his horns were a hat and patted my shoulder before leaving me in my puddle of distress and frantic internal seizuring. I waited until he was out of earshot and I was halfway up the courtyard to my tent before slapping my hands over my face.

_I'm in love._

_Fuck._

_Fuckity fuck._


	11. ACT II: Misery's Lovely Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime knows that things aren't so black and white. Seeing it turn to gray is a different matter.

The early morning sunrise glinted through the flaps of my tent. My back drenched in sweat as I laid in bed motionless, contemplating my life and the stupid decisions I've made thus far. The roof of the tent swayed with the gentle breeze and only the faintest of whispers drew up from the grass and the leaves that circled outside of my tent in the courtyard. I didn't want to face the day.

"The Commander is concerned." Cole hovered to the left side of my tent. He peered at me, upside down, his hat still stuck to his head even as he floated a good ways off the ground. "Worried, hurried, battered and confused — he thinks you're sick." Thankfully it was Cullen that was worried, not any other commander.

_I am sick. In the head or the heart. Blame one._

"I cannot." Cole answered. I winced, forgetting he could hear my thoughts. "The head and heart are clear. Glowing, sifting, happy, thrilling." A laugh bubbled up from my chest and I threw back my covers. So much for the idea of hiding what I felt. Cole watched as I tumbled out of bed, shifting in the air to avoid hitting me.

"Yeah, I know." I sighed, running my hands through my hair and detangling the braid it was in. "I'm not sick. I don't suppose you could tell him that, could you?" Cole was silent, his hat twitched with a turn of his head as he looked out through the flaps of my tent.

"Yes." He answered, surprised. "They can see me. Yes. I will tell him." I glanced up to find my tent empty, the spirit gone away to do his task.  _Here's hoping he doesn't scare the shit out of Cullen this time._ Out of bed, I took up residence at my wash bin, scrubbing my face and hair, cleaning out what I could of any necessary parts that ran afoul with scent before dressing.

Normally I was up and out of the tent at the speed of light, eager to be back in the mess of things (and what a change that was from months previous?), but today a fear gripped me of running into a certain Qunari. It wasn't as if Bull had Cole's ability to read my mind and guess at all the secrets I held. There was still that fear, though, that he  _could_  read me, find the tangled web of emotion I bundled away deep in my soul.

Was it love? Doubtful. I was tired and extremely drained from the day before. I hadn't even finished all that I wanted to do, I still had to talk to Leliana about Hawke's information, and Josephine to get Dorian's books for research. I knew I had to check up on Cullen for the status of our people and Cassandra was someone in the ether that I had to snag before she got wind that Hawke had come around. There was so much to do and I felt our recovery phase slipping away.

Maybe I just latched on to that feeling of overwhelming relief when Bull came by to help  _me_  and not the other way around. Granted, that also put  _Solas_  in the same category, so it couldn't be love. Affection for the big lug, maybe, but not love. He was a Qunari, different race entirely despite the eagerness of some Sisters, and he was also a spy. He  _openly_  admitted it; ignoring the months he had spent at my side, helping.

 _He also flirts with you_ , my mind supplied. I countered with;  _Spy, they always will._

 _I jumped the gun. I know I did. You don't fall in love with someone that fast._ You couldn't have, because that's how murder mysteries started and you ended up on a crime show. My slacks came up next after I had dried up, my boots laced tightly and my tunic tucked in enough to be roguishly presentable. My hair was getting too long, I would have to find someone reputable to cut it.  _Sera is already looking for an excuse, so best to keep my mouth shut about it until it's finished._

The distracted thoughts were not helping, my heart thrummed happily against my ribs, a purring cat wanting for attention. Ignorance was bliss, I decided, and brought over my vest before yanking on my armored back-brace and vambraces. My coat fitted on comfortably and once it was on, I realized I couldn't hide in my tent anymore.

 _I hate everything. That's it. That'll get me through the day. I swear to God, Jaime, if you make moon-eyes at the fucker, I'll fling us off the battlements._ I tied my scarf around my neck smartly.

I'm not sure where the dual personality had come from, but that was best left for another day. Once out of the tent, I could see that a good number of soldiers and merchants were already on the run, dashing through the yard with their things and scrolls. A few of Leliana's people hung around Cullen like bats, waiting and watching before taking flight at his orders. Cullen spied me over his papers once I was up near his table.

"Good morning." He greeted me, nodding his head in salute.

"Good morning?" I teased. "You look like death warmed over. I like the improvement!"

He snorted at me, but it got me a smile. "I'll take your judgement on it. Well. Reports, then."

"Reports." I agreed, nodding as well. He chuckled and reached for a few scrolls at his desk, unfurling them and pinning them to the surface. A soldier next to him came around the table and pinned a few others open as Cullen pushed the most important toward me, trusting that I could read the information.

"We set up as best we could at Haven, but nothing could have prepared us for an archdemon or — whatever it was." He cleared his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck again. "With some warning, we might have…" His gaze cast down to the table, shame taking his words.

"Hey," I reached out and tapped his pauldron, "we were all pretty shaken by what happened, Commander."

Cullen shook his head, "If Corypheus decides to come after us here, we may not be able to withdraw… I wouldn't want to." He stared down at the map of Skyhold. He knew better than most the defenses that housed us, as well as the likelihood of escape if it was needed. I had no doubt Skyhold had something in case we were overwhelmed, but I agreed with the Commander on this one.

I wasn't running a second time.

"So what have we got, then?" I prompted him out of his sorrow, hands folded behind my back as I peered at his work.

"The work on Skyhold is progressing nicely. We've had plenty of tradesmen come in from Orlais and Ferelden to help with the repairs." Cullen pointed to the roster that was unrolled furthest from me, a list of names that went two or three pages deep. "We've also set up guard rotations. By the end of this week, we should be settled."

I nodded, "I'm still amazed what we've managed to accomplished in the month we've been here."

"I will agree with you there. The people here have been motivated to succeed." He turned to me, the wrinkles of his face hard as he pursed his mouth and straightened his back. "We will not run from here, Inquisitor." My new title still hit like a truck. It had taken me  _months_  to get used to 'Herald,' I could only hope I wouldn't trip so long on the newest name.

"How many did we lose?" I asked quietly, reeling under the title.

"Not many. Our civilians. I… have the final list being finished. Leliana will have it by this evening." He glanced off to the soldier that stood with him, the woman quiet as she nodded to me. "But morale has improved greatly ever since you accepted the role of Inquisitor."

"Inquisitor Welton." I rolled it on my tongue. The family name having been changed months ago, but it still felt foreign in my voice with the new title making it even less familiar. I huffed, amused. "It sounds really —  _odd,_ don't you think?"

A glowing chuckle was my reward, "Not at all. We needed a leader, and you more than proved yourself for it."

"I…" Stunned, I floundered for a bit, unsure of how to take the praise. "You realize we did this together, right? You responded quickly to the attack on Haven. I'm grateful for that — without you, so many more would have died." He eyed me deeply, his gaze sifted like fine sand over my face, a muscle jumped at the back of his jawline.

"Thank you, Inquisitor." He ardently replied. "I'll do everything in my power to ensure the security of our people." His hand rose to his chest and the slight tap of his fist to his breastplate was his salute. A smile flashed across my face,  _I'm glad you're doing better._ Miles from where he was back in my tent after I had been found, but I couldn't bring myself to say it while soldiers milled around us.

"— This thing is not a stray puppy you can make into a pet. It has no business being here." Vivienne's voice echoed over our heads. Cullen and I glanced up and watched as Cassandra and Solas trailed behind the ever-grand enchantress. The woman led the charge down the steps and seemed to make a beeline for us.

"Ah, this is my cue." Cullen muttered to me. He and his soldier rolled up their scrolls and lists before he swerved around me, a hand on my back as he leaned in close to my ear to whisper: "Good luck."

" _Traitor_ ," I hissed back at him, laughing quietly. Cassandra and Solas spotted me around the same time, with Cassandra's shoulders sagging in relief and Solas standing a bit straighter.  _Ooh, fuck. I'm the deciding factor, am I?_ I needed a clue-in as to what the conversation was about first. I waited at the bottom of the steps watching the trio descend.

"Ah, good. Inquisitor." Vivienne called to me, laser-focused. My Mark twinged in my palm, the presence of Cole's form flickering at the corner of my vision. Solas made a move to finish the last of the stairs and stand in front of the spirit, warding off Vivienne. Cassandra took up her stance next to me, settling into place like a puzzle piece.

 _Fucking hell, I miss her._ I gave her a smile, so as not to embarrass her with my emotions.

"Lady Vivienne, I understand your position, but I disagree." Solas kept his face straight, feet planted firmly in front of Cole. "I dare say one could say the same of an apostate."

"Wait, hold the fuck up — are we arguing about  _Cole?_ " I interjected, alarmed.

"Inquisitor, I wondered if Cole was perhaps a mage, given his unusual abilities." Cassandra explained hastily, bringing me up to speed of the argument. My bewilderment was clear on my face;  _since when did Cole become an issue? What's he been doing these last few weeks?_

"He  _can_  cause people to forget him, or even fail entirely to notice him." Solas glanced over his shoulder, as did I, but Cole had long disappeared.  _Ah, wonderful. Now it's a goose chase._ Solas sighed sharply, "These are not the abilities of a mage. It seems that Cole is a spirit."

"Was that a question?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Even I knew that." All three turned to me, a piercing look in their gazes.  _Did we not all know that? Just me? Christ._ I raised my left hand and waved it lightly, the Mark glowing faintly, pulsing as if greeting the people before me.

" _Wonderful_ ," Vivienne burned her words, "even more proof that it is a  _demon_."

Solas was unphased, voice laced professionally. "If you would prefer. Although, the truth is somewhat more complex. In fact, I do not believe his nature is so easily defined."

"Speak plainly, Solas." Cassandra gave a frustrated growl. "What  _are_  we dealing with?"

Solas' brow rose. "Demons normally enter this world by possessing something. In their true form, they look bizarre, monstrous."

"Right." I added, glancing between them. "Like when we found out that the demons coming through the Fade are just spirits trapped in the net." Solas smirked at me briefly, perhaps amused that of all the people around him, I wasn't the one that needed the explanation. It was pride I saw in his eyes.

_Points to me, yay._

Cassandra held up a hand, halting the explanation. "But you claim Cole looks like a young man. Is it possession?"

"No." Solas shook his head, his tone pleasantly surprised. "He has possessed nothing and no one, and yet he appears human in all respects."

Vivienne scoffed, her arms folded under her bosom. "But he is  _not_. He was not born human. Anything that is created from the Fade, even with the characteristics of humanity do not make them so." I had one hell of an argument for her concerning artificial insemination and tube babies. Again, more arguments and problems for a different day.

"Cole is  _unique_ , Inquisitor." Solas stressed, turning to me with quiet pleading. "More than that, he wishes to help. I suggest you allow him to do so."  _Had I not already done so? Or_ — wait. He wanted to help, but his previous request had only been to help  _me_. A pause stretched between the four of us, my right hand came up to rub at my chin.

"I'm not entirely sure he's demonic, Vivienne." I placated the steaming enchanter, her frown searing a place at the side of my skull. "Working with the rifts, I've seen what happens to spirits who come  _unwillingly._ "

"Cole predates the Breach." Solas added, stepping toward me. "From what we can tell, he has lived here for months, perhaps  _years_. He  _looks_ like a young man. For all intents and purposes, he  _is_ a young man. It's remarkable." Cassandra was willing to settle behind me, allowing the conversation to flow between those more knowledgeable of spirits and their phases (not that I was an expert by any means). Vivienne closed up like a clam, seeing that Solas had taken the upperhand.

I raised my hand from my chin, stopping Solas. "I should hear what Cole has to say for himself." I stepped away from Solas and peered around our group, looking for the spirit in question. The ground around us was empty, the crowds of merchants off toward the stables hummed with life, but the tents at the bottom of the stairway were packed with the dying.

Cole walked among them.

I left my group with a wave of my hand to allow me the chance to talk to Cole. The surgeon moved around him as if he was non-existent, the patients at her feet stared aimlessly into the crowds and into the ground that Cole walking past them did little to deter their gaze.  _Had it really been so surprising that he was a spirit? It seemed so natural to me that he was, I didn't think to question that he was a demon. Could be a demon._ I had always expected demons to be dangerous, both in my world and this one.

I guess I failed lesson number one, that a demon would be cunning.

"Haven." Cole whispered as I approached his side, his eyes jumped between faces. "So many soldiers fought to protect the pilgrims so they could escape." The surgeon greeted me with a tired, distracted salute and continued on; she had no time to stop and greet me properly. My waved hand was enough to relieve her of any responsibility to entertain me.

Cole continued, watching; "Choking fear. Can't think from the medicine but the cuts wrack me with every heartbeat." I closed my eyes and clamped my mouth tight.  _He's listening to someone. Oh no._ A glance around the fallen soldiers, but I couldn't spot the one Cole had focused on, they all suffered with their wounds, all of them shuddering with each breath.

"Hot — white — pain. Everything burns. I can't, I  _can't_ , I'm going to — I'm  _dying_ , I'm —" With a vicious suddenness, tears flooded my eyes and willfully I forced myself to listen, watching as Cole fidgeted with his sleeves.  _I know that fear._ My thoughts were shrouded by the shadows of the cave I had fallen into.  _Oh god, do I know it_ —  _who's he listening to? Christ Almighty_.

" —Dead." Cole intoned, turning to focus on a soldier at the far end of the camp. Gaze muddled by my tears, I turned to look as well, watching as the surgeon hissed in aggravation when the soldier faded away in her grip, his limbs going lax against the ground. A hand rose to my mouth and I held in a surprised hitch of pain that tried to escape.

"Cole," I was terrified to ask, but I had to, "are you feeling their  _pain_?"

He paused to consider the question and answered quietly. "It's louder this close, with so many of them."

"Would — you like to go somewhere more comfortable?" But where would I take him? Everywhere in Skyhold, someone was hurting, someone was dying, or sick, or wounded. Pain here was inescapable, where could I possibly take him to stop it?

"Yes." He answered immediately, and then walked away from me. "But here is where I can help." A hesitant step forward was enough to follow him, walking away from the tents to someone else that laid on a cot, his eyes bandaged and his breathing shallow. He couldn't see us, but his head turned as if he could sense myself or Cole.

"Every breath slower. Like lying in a warm bath. Sliding away. Smell of my daughter's hair when I kiss her goodnight." Cole paused, confused. He looked down and his shoulders slumped as the soldier's chest flattened. "Gone." I couldn't handle the tears at my eyes. The heel of my right palm came up to wipe them away, caught off-guard by the sudden emotion I was feeling.

_Goddamn this stupid Mark._

"Cracked brown pain. Dry, scraping. Thirsty." Cole latched onto another and dove away, hastened by what he was feeling. I was glued to my spot, watching as he snatched a small pitcher of water and a cup from behind the Chantry Mother's back and took it away, heading back to a soldier not far from where I stood.

"Here." He knelt by the woman, pouring her a cup of water and helping her drink. She swallowed the offering greedily, gasping quietly as the water touched her throat, her eyes closing softly in relief.

"Thank you," she breathed, lying back onto her bedroll. Cole left the pitcher of water and the cup near her. He glanced up at me, pausing for a moment before he hunched his shoulders and came back to my side, quiet.

"It's alright." He explained. "She won't remember me." I didn't know what to say, stunned as I was. The Mark hummed in my hand at Cole's proximity and I clenched my fingers around it, alarmed by the sensation. What was he? What was  _I_  now that I could feel him and what he was doing? A gentle turn of my head, I could see him at my side.

"So you're using your powers as a spirit to help people?" I asked quietly, unsure if the people around me could see him, or think I was crazy for talking to myself if he wasn't visible. Cole shifted at my side, our arms brushing. He felt warm, real and solid. I had only ever gotten close enough to the demons from the rift to feel their power through my Mark, but not if they actually felt like flesh. I shuddered, wondering what else I missed.

"Yes." He answered, tipping his head toward me. "I used to think I was a ghost. I didn't know. I made mistakes… but I made friends, too." He shifted on the balls of his feet, his fingers tapping together before snagging his sleeves and tugging. Was he nervous? Or did he understand himself even less than we did?

He shook his head, "Then a Templar proved I wasn't real. I lost my friends. I lost everything."

"Cole…" I started, but quickly derailed. What on earth would I say?  _Could_  I say? Proved he wasn't real? That didn't answer whether he was a spirit or a demon. Did all unwilling spirits turn into grotesque monsters or just the ones forced through? That was also completely ignoring the question of:  _how the fuck did he get here?_

"I learned how to be more like what I am!" Cole whispered hastily, his kaleidoscope eyes finding mine. "It made me different, but  _stronger_. I can feel more — I  _can_  help." Hesitation gripped me and I turned back to look for the group that wanted on us. Cassandra waited, ever patient for me, her face mildly lax with disinterest. She would trust whatever decision I came up with, and that weighed on my heart.

Vivienne and Solas watched, one vexed by the time I was taking to examine the situation, the other one comfortably settled that my decision had been made. I sighed; I knew what the answer would be. I raised a hand and waved at them, dismissing them.  _Cole will stay_ , I signalled. Vivienne immediately riled up and raised her chin in the air, strutting away like God's Wrath. Cassandra nodded her head, waiting for Solas who smirked at me, pleased.

_Fucking hell, just making things more complicated by the second._

"If you're willing, Cole." I turned back to him, my voice stronger with my decision. "Then stay and help us."

"Yes, helping." He sighed, relieved. "I help the hurt, the helpless, there's someone…" He turned to look at me, his eyes bright with purpose, but sorrow pulled at his mouth. His voice echoed in my head, humming through my Mark as he focused. Another's voice reverberated under Cole's gentle tone, a quake of pain laced through the connection.

 _Hurts, it hurts, it hurts! Someone make it stop hurting, Maker please_ —

"Stop," I exhaled, raising a hand, my eyes shut.

Cole paused, watching me. A dagger glinted in his hand. "The healers have done all they can. It will take him hours to die. Every moment will be agony, he wants mercy. Help." My body shuddered under my head, a phantom pain that stole my lungs from me and weakened my knees. I closed my eyes, listening as someone suffered through it firsthand.

 _Mending for the bleeding, a dagger for the dying._ The shaman Amund flashed through my mind, his tone casual and reassured in his duty. I glanced at Cole, unsure if I should lay such responsibility on him. It would be careless to trust solely on his judgement, non-human as he was.

Even as an Angel of Death, we could not just kill wantonly, kill only because the immediate moment seemed bleak. My heart thudded with pain and the Mark rumbled deep in my arm.  _But it will take him hours to die._

"Help them." I answered softly, my gaze on Cole. "But only when there is no other option. Do you understand? You are the last resort, not the first one."

Cole smiled at me with a nod, and between one blink in the next, he was gone.

_Christ. What have I done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Jaime/Bull moments to come soon, I promise!


	12. ACT II: Putting On A Show For The Masses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime gets to step into the title of Inquisitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter ended up being fucking long because I didn't know where to cut it off. Please enjoy! Remember this isn't beta'ed and it's all done for fun!

"Inquisitor!"

I paused in my tracks, glancing about me in surprise.  _When was the last time I actually saw Josephine?_ Finally with a tilt of my head up, I could spy her at the middle landing between the second courtyard and the main fort. She waved at me not wishing to shout, and signaled for my approach. Confused, I left the healing tents and made my way up the steps toward her.

"Yes, ma'am?" I asked once I was a few feet away from her. She glowed, in a far better mood and grace than previously.  _She does love it when a plan comes together._  I couldn't help but smile at her, a low chuckle in my chest. "You seem exceptionally happy about something."

"Well, perhaps  _happy_ is not the right word, but yes. I am pleased with the situation. Here, come, if you would?" She addressed me with a small bow and took a moment to wait for me, pacing herself by my side as we walked up into the main hall.

"Is there something happening?" I asked, noting that the hall itself echoed with noise, the dim purring of voices echoed from within, a cathedral's call of the faithful. There were banners with the Inquisition's symbol that hung from the walls, framing the doorway and windows. The glass polished and shining, with the wood frames of the doors glowing from oil and repair.

"Yes." Josephine nodded to the guards that stood at the massive entrance. "We mean to prepare you  _now_  as something must be done soon."

"I am freaking out with the vague explanation here, Josephine." I admitted, a worm of worry curled in my gut as we entered, the ceiling breathing up before us, banners swaying from their pegs at each pillar. The stone beneath shining from wax and clean up, a line of pews settled on either side of the walkway, facing the main interior where the end was raised in a platform with stairs.

"Well, you see —" She began.

"Josephine." I cut off, pointing to the front. "Is that a fucking  _throne_?"

She puffed at my curse, coming into her full height. "It's impressive, no? Fit for a leader. Meant to show influence — and the burden of it." She walked up to it as I followed her, numbed from the neck down.  _I cannot fucking believe this, what the fuck_.

The throne was  _massive_. A hard wood of darkened, nearly burnt coloring —  _is that Ebony wood?_ — with a red tint not unlike the hue of blood. Spears jutted out from behind it like a sunburst with the golden eye of the Inquisition emblazoned at the center. Extreme vibes from  _Game Of Thrones_ tumbled through my whirling thoughts.

I walked up to it, fearing to touch it but curiosity driving me to do so. The wood was smooth as water to the touch, the insignia of the Inquisition was con _cave_ rather than convex, carved deep into the ballooning back of the chair. All of it tapered down toward the cushioned seat, buttoned and nailed into the wood with gold caps that shone brightly against the blood-red cloth.

"When the fuck did we get this?" I asked into the ether. Josephine cleared her voice behind me, stepping up beside the throne and glancing it over.

"Last night. We — understand that you prefer to have a minimalistic style." Josephine tuttered, smoothing her fingers over a bare armrest to avoid my startled look toward her. "As Inquisitor, there are certain responsibilities and duties you will be expected to perform."

"Like saving the fucking world isn't enough?" I snipped sharply. She frowned at me and I sighed, "Sorry, just — are we being serious here? Am I understanding you right, you're asking me to be a — what, a sovereign  _power_?"

"You are a beacon of law, Inquisitor." Josephine attempted to placate me, her words firm. "As all others retreat from responsibility, you will be looked to as a pillar of justice."

" _Why_  are we deeming me fit to judge  _anyone_?" I hissed quietly, stepping a bit closer to her, a hand's length between us. My internal organs were on fire as fear raced through my veins. The idea alone of sitting before  _anyone_  to pass judgement were all of my worst nightmares combined. Crowds. Attention. Pressure to perform.  _Choosing_. My words floated between us, thankfully the echo was muted to just our area as she straightened her shoulders, assessing her words.

" _You_  are  _our_  leader, you were from the moment you took up the title of Inquisitor." Josephine explained, retaining as much of her calm demeanor as she could. "The Inquisition sovereignty is derived from the allies that validate it. The people  _trust_ you and chose to follow you. Would it be such a leap to accept your judgement of their disputes?"

"Hold up, are there actually things  _to_  judge?" My voice cracked, blindsided.

"Yes. Those who have done wrong. You will know  _of_  them, at the very least." She explained with a nod, and then tilted her head at my whirlwind look of confusion. "All this presumes they have survived their initial encounter with you, of course."

 _The Hand of Korth,_ my wayward thoughts chimed up.

A deep and extended sigh escaped me, my lungs popped from stress. I brought my hands up to my face and held them to my eyes and forehead, breathing for a moment, asking for peace and patience as I considered the new turn of events.  _I should have seen this coming. I_ knew  _it was coming when we first got here, there was no way to avoid this_ —  _and I can't now, not without upsetting a loooot of people._

 _Fuck me, this day is just_ great.

"This needn't be bloody, Inquisitor." Josephine guessed at my state of mind, leaning in with a hand on my arm to lower it. It came down to have our gazes meet and she offered me a small, sympathetic smile. "Here, you are both empowered and bound. Justice has many tools. If their application is clever, execution may even seem merciful by comparison."

"That doesn't help, Josephine, but — I understand." Painfully, I understood now the mantle I had taken on, my mind flashing back to the first months of my arrival here, where the floundering pilgrims looked to me as the Herald for guidance.  _We leveled up. Yay… fuck._ A exhale rattled my chest and I focused on Josephine, knowing she hadn't brought me here just to show me the throne.

"I take it we have duties to perform today?"

-0-

Indeed we had duties to perform today. The judgements weren't going to occur until the evening, so we had the rest of the afternoon to prep me. I was holed up in Josephine's new office, barren for the moment aside from a desk and chair, and the glowing fireplace. Leliana was silent in the background, standing in the corner of the room as Josephine covered the specifics.

"I take it there was some form of judiciary procedures in your world, correct?" Josephine tuttered behind me, her hands pulling and tugging at the newest coat they had slipped me into (apparently my regular blood-stained clothes, though intimidating, were unacceptable for public court).

"Yeah. Not to make it complicated, but usually the judge was the last stop." I answered, swaying a bit as I was tugged to the left, the tails of my coat straightened out.

"True. In this case, you will be listening to the grievances of your public, for all parties if there is more than one." She tugged again, but this time upwards, and moved around front to adjust the lip of my pants over my hips. "Goodness, we might need to have this tailored again. I thought I had the measurements correct."

I laughed, "What happened, did I grow out instead of up?"

"Oh, goodness, no!" Josephine chuckled, buttoning a few plaits on the side. "You've gotten a bit smaller around the waist. Are you eating?"

"I — yes?" I answered, pleasantly confused.  _When was I thrust back into younger-sibling status?_ I gave her a shrug of my shoulders. "I think? I had breakfast, at the very least." She huffed at me and continued. I knew the sound for what it was, having heard Jake make the same noise when he didn't believe an answer.  _Ah, to be young and irresponsible again._

"So, I'm going to look presentable. Do we know how many of these I'm doing today?" I asked, my hips jerking for a moment as my belt was straightened and tightened, my arms lifted briefly as Josephine reached along my ribs and shifted my blouse around.

"There two, and we are to use these to set the precedent of what to expect of the Inquisition." Leliana chimed in from her shadows. Her hip was pressed against Josephine's desk as she watched us, her eyes drawn to Josephine's movements around me.

"Is that because I'm expected to kill someone or no?" I asked precariously, glancing over at my Spymaster.

Leliana shrugged, nonplussed. "It will be your decision. This is to show our intent, that all who come before us will be judged according to the law."

"The law being…  _me_." I sighed. Josephine stepped away from her fussing and I took the time to stretch my hands over my head before resting at my sides. Josephine moved me toward her mirror in the corner, where it stood tilted on its stand, unassuming and out of sight unless needed. She stepped around me and tilted it down so I could take a look.

My mouth screwed in surprise, "I… wow. Is that me?"

"Oh, yes!" Josephine grinned, brimming with pleasure. "I daresay you've bloomed beautifully." Not that I could contest her, I wasn't sure what the standard of beauty was in comparison. Humans, elves, dwarves, and even Qunari (though I hadn't seen anyone else than Bull), were an enormous variety of what 'beauty' could be.

Head to foot, I was decked in firm cloth, stitched tight and curving over my form. The colors were muted, to either impress or disquiet without being gnarly or gross. Dark, devastating copper-reds for the main coat, with black trousers and black belts that hooked around my hips. My boots were darkened leather that hiked up to just over my knees and there was gold inlay and trim all throughout the outfit, both in coat and trousers as well as my boots.

"I look like the goddamn Nutcracker King." I laughed, turning slightly to glance at the back of the coat, embroidered with the Inquisition insignia squared from shoulder to shoulder in black stitching. My hair had been detangled and braided along the right side of my head. It went down and combed loose from the base of my skull then over to my left shoulder, with only a few strands to come down my face, the rest behind my ears.

"The who?" Josephine questioned with a blink. She came around to my side and peered at me through the silver mirror. "I think you look rather dashing — handsome? Which would you prefer?"

"Josephine," I snorted, amused, "anything  _you_  call me is just fine." Leliana smirked behind us as she came up, Josephine's ears going red to the tips and I couldn't help another laugh, feeling a strange disconnected, out of body experience with the whole thing. Clothes made the person, for sure.  _I feel like a character in a story, this is so weird. Cool!_

Here was hoping I didn't immediately sour the situation with sending someone to the gallows.

"We will have an audience, you must look the part." Leliana explained, glancing at a spot on my shoulder and tugging it into place. "The hall will be filled with our resident subjects, as well as the nobility who sponsor us, and our soldiers along the walls." A bundle of nerves skittered through my guts at the mental image painted in my mind. It would be a full house since this would be the first of many duties I was going to perform as Inquisitor.

"Question." I asked into the mirror, watching the ladies next to me. "If someone disagrees with my judgement, is there a course of action they can take to overturn it?"

Josephine twitched, surprised. "Ah, no? Not — usually. Your word is absolute here in Skyhold. Other sovereign countries or powers will occasionally send you their disputes, as you are a neutral party, and you'll pass judgement."

"Though, if I understand your concern, if the accused party or parties feel they did not receive justice, they can petition their country of origin." Leliana stepped around my side and came to face me, nodding as her eyes swept over me to inspect the full effect. "That will be rare, though, as they have been sent to the Inquisition for judgement  _because_ their country could not settle on a verdict."

"Yikes," I murmured, inhaling to stretch my lungs under the fitted blouse and coat. "That makes sense, I guess. Means I really gotta make sure I do this right and not become a tyrant."

"That is doubtful." Leliana replied softly with her gaze settling on my face. "We would not have trusted you to the position of Inquisitor if we believed for a moment you would abuse the power."

"You've secured alliances throughout Ferelden and Orlais. The nobility stand for the Inquisition as a viable power to fix the catastrophe we're in." Josephine stood next to Leliana, her hands folded before her, resting against her stomach. "Until the Chantry is reestablished,  _we_  are the word of justice."

"And isn't that just a scary thought." It came under my breath, so I sighed and nodded. "Alright. You said this was going to happen this evening?"

"Yes." Josephine walked over to her desk, Leliana and I followed quietly. "One of your judgements this day will be Chief Movran the Under. You killed his son, The Hand of Korth, but he was arrested for harassment."

"Oh, that's going to be a mess." I muttered. "The other? You said I had two?"

"Knight-Captain Denam." Leliana replied at my side. "The Commander has also put in an official request to be allowed to face the accused."

I blinked, "Can he? He's not a Templar, he's the Inquisition Commander. Is it personal?"

"In a way, yes." Leliana smirked at me briefly. "I'm pleased to see that you did not immediately agree. The Commander would be allowed to make his statement against the accused, but he would not be allowed to suggest judgement."

"Ah." I answered with understanding. "Speak now or forever hold your peace, like a wedding. Kinda."

"Uh. Yes?" Josephine agreed, utterly confused. I resisted the urge to chuckle,  _I guess they don't do that here. Oops._ "In any case, the full details of the situation will be provided to you at the trial, and you will pass judgement upon the parties."

"Oh, boy." I exhaled. Flying, electrified jitters were jumbling around in my lungs at the thought. "Do I have to wear this every time we have to hold court? Why does this one have to happen now?"

"You won't always wear the same uniform, as Josephine has loved dressing you in different colors." Leliana murmured, highly amused and avoiding Josephine's quiet pout. "But  _a_  uniform is necessary as official representation, and as for why it must be now —"

"Chief Movran has been in our custody two weeks after you had returned to Haven from the Mire." Josephine clarified, glancing through the parchment pieces on her desk. "By rights, he should have had a swift judgement, but between the destruction and rebuilding…"

"And Knight-Captain Denam has recovered from his injuries." Leliana picked up, her lips white as they pressed together with distaste. "He is now demanding that he be released into the hands of Orlais, but as there is no Divine to judge her Templar, it falls to you."

"So it's time-sensitive, then." I nodded. "Is Orlais or Ferelden pressuring us to release either of them?" Leliana and Josephine shared a look across the desk, a whole conversation flashed in the span of seconds before Leliana turned away and Josephine nodded.

"Yes." Leliana answered. "More Orlais than anyone else on Movran's behalf. They are concerned that the Inquisition harboring a known aggressor, a Templar, amongst its own without judgement is a statement in itself."

"Oh." I replied, numb. "Oh, shit. No, yeah, I get that. Gotta get that shit outta here quick, then."

"Agreed." Leliana and Josephine answered. Josephine cleared her throat, "For now, we have a few more hours to go over the legalities you will be facing. Let's take that time now, and have you practice moving in that outfit."

"Right," I griped, "Gotta look natural. Ready, steady, go."

-0-

Evening struck, and I could hear the Main Hall fill with incoming guests, witnesses to the first judgement to be passed in Skyhold after its revival. Leliana had left us long ago, agreeing to oversee the court from the balcony, but choosing to remain out of sight. Josephine would be my recorder and prompter, and Cullen was going to double as plaintiff and bailiff. I'm sure that was illegal  _somewhere_.

"Remember!" Josephine took one more sweep over my person, checking for flaws. " _You_  command the floor. This is  _your_  Great Hall, and these are your subjects. You are the first and last, the only power that matters in that room. Yes?"

"Yes." I croaked, twisting my neck briefly to keep from choking on my collar. "Yes, I know."  _I know and I'm about ready to shit my pants. Crowds were never my thing._ A deep inhale through my nose and out through my mouth, brushing Josephine's hair near my face. She patted my back and clucked her tongue.

"There. Magnificent." She approved with a nod of her head. "They should be seated now. I shall go out first and introduce you by your title. Are you ready?"

"No." I immediately replied, voice tight. "But that doesn't matter, right?"

"Unfortunately, it does not. On my mark, Inquisitor." Josephine left me to my turbulent thoughts and marched out through the door, the Main Hall going quiet as Josephine came into view. I could hear her voice echo through the hall and vibrate through the stone. I inhaled deeply, holding my breath and closing my eyes to concentrate.

"All rise! The Court of the Inquisition to commence! The honorable Inquisitor Jaime Welton presiding!"

_Don't trip._

The wooden door groaned as it swung open and the world slowed to a crawl. Each breath I took swelled in my ears like the tide, loud and insistent. I refused to look toward the pews that lined either side of the Main Hall, knowing that if I did, I would vomit all over my new boots. Silence prevailed, my boot heels clacked against the stonework and echoed in my head.

My shoulders were squared and pulled back, neck straight with a downward tilt to my chin as Josephine had instructed. Her voice floated through my thoughts:  _Humbled by power, but not haughty. You are not nobility, you are your people. Do not look down your nose at them._ I did my best to keep my expression clear and somber; that wasn't hard with enough bloodshed on my hands to rekindle old memories.

I came to the throne and lowered myself into it with as much grace as I could muster, my gaze unfocused as I raised my head and seemingly peered into the crowd. I focused out through the corner of my eyes to avoid the stares of the people before me; the overwhelming heat I felt growing under my throat at the Main Hall's full attention upon my small, lonesome person was stifling.

_Don't. Don't you dare throw up._

I hesitated for a nanosecond, screaming internally at how to position my legs.  _Princess hook behind an ankle or do I cross them? Fuck! Of all the times not to remember._ My mind settled on crossing my legs over the knee, keeping my thighs tight together, my leg hung like a throw-rug against my other leg, loose and swaying with the natural bounce of my muscles.

I was resisting the painful urge to bounce my leg quicker from sheer anxiety.

I finally focused once I was relatively positive I wasn't about to throw up or pass out from the enormity of the situation. A swarm of faces greeted me, some masked, others painted full to their hairlines, others clear complexion as they stared back, their gazes flickering between my every twitch and move. All along the sides against the wall stood the gleaming armor of the Inquisition's soldiers, their black and golden armor polished to shine and their helmets hiding their faces. The very picture of an unstoppable, palatable force to face.

There was a long stretch of a deep emerald carpet that flowed from my throne down the steps and down the long path between the wooden pews toward the main entrance. At the door I could see another set of figures, more soldiers, who stood and faced out. At the walls along the main door there were a few rows of Templars that shifted anxiously against themselves, a quivering mass of nervous energy.

I looked up to the balcony. Vivienne and Solas stood on either side of Leliana, who was centered against the railings, her arms crossed over the stone rail that housed them safely above the main hall. Dorian was further along the lower stairs to the left of them, curiously watching the scene before him.

A swallow went down my dry throat and I brought my gaze heavily to Josephine who stood to my right at the front of the audience, just in front of her I could see Bull and Krem standing side by side against the wall. They stood before the hanging banner from the first pillar.  _They're hidden from the crowd._  Realization struck and pleasure warmed me that they stood there for my protection or Josephine's. A flood of seawater relief choked my lungs, stinging each breath.

Krem gave me a firm nod and Bull crossed his arms with a smirk.

Electricity surged through my spine and though I had already been sitting straighter than a rod, the strength was finally there to match it. My shoulders felt like unfurled wings and the tilt of my chin was more for the soft smirk on my lips than any humility that I felt. Josephine blinked, perhaps seeing the change, and she fought her own smile, her shoulders twitching lower with relief.

_Let's do this._

"This was a surprise to the Inquisition. After Inquisitor Welton returned from the bogs, we discovered this man attacking." Josephine turned away from me, a dancer's twist on her heels to face the accused, addressing the audience before us. I leaned back in my seat, my elbows on the armrests, my hands in my lap.  _Proper. Polite. Disinterested._ Just as Josephine had taught me.

"This man arrived and proceeded to attack our fort, with a… goat." Josephine faltered briefly, unsure of how to present the information to the crowd without being causing a ruckus of laughter. The crowd shifted and murmurings crawled between the bodies, louder as the seconds grew.

"Silen _ce_." I called out, letting the last letter ring against my throat. The word ricocheted through the hall. It was chilling how quickly they fell into a deathly silence. My gaze shifted to Josephine and she nodded in thanks. The chief was escorted forward, his footfalls heavy and muffled against the carpet. His horned helmet swung from one side to another, nearly taking the ear of one of my soldiers. He grinned under his beard at me once he was at the first series of steps.

"Chief Movran the Under." Josephine introduced him with a wave of her hand. "He feels slighted by the killing of his Avvar Tribesmen.  _Who_  repeatedly attacked the  _Inquisition_ first."

My attention shifted from Josephine's golden form to the blue and white muscular form of the chieftain. He bowed his head only forcibly when both Inquisition soldiers on either side of him glared. His teeth flashed under his lips, but he bowed, raising his head soon after, tugging at his manacled wrists to have the chain rattle loudly in the hall. I tilted my head, the rest of my body unmoving in the throne, my focus on the Avvar.

"You answered the death of your clan… with a goat?" I asked, hardening my voice to keep the crowd from breaking into another round of quiet chuckling or snickering.  _We have to set the impression_   _that this isn't a game. This is real. This has consequences._ I exhaled, waiting for my answer with a raised brow.

"A courtroom? Unnecessary!" The Chieftain laughed, his voice thrumming deep from his chest. "You killed my idiot son, and I answered, as is my custom. By  _smacking_  your holdings with goat's blood." I blinked, mildly alarmed at multiple things: one, that he managed to get  _to_ the fort from outside, and two, he threw a goat hard enough to splatter it against the stone wall.

 _Holy fuck._ I turned to Josephine, my brow raised higher.

Josephine shook her head, "Don't look at me."

I fought a laugh.  _Remember, maintain composure. Serious. No laughing. But holy fuck is that funny as hell._ My lips pursed to hold back my amusement, hopefully creating a severe look.

"No foul! He meant to murder Tevinters, but got feisty with your Inquisition." Chief Movran shook his head, spitting nicely to one side. "A redheaded mother guarantees a brat!" He grinned and rattled his chains again, the soldiers next to him nervous and alert for any attempt from him to bolt away or toward me. I greatly doubted that he'd get past Bull fast enough.

Cullen stood taller just off to my left, eyes glued to the Avvar, his hand tight on the pommel of his sword. I was surprised to spot Blackwall in the alcove of Harritt's door that led into his smithy, hidden in his own black clothing amongst the shadows, his glare out for the world to see. Another grin wanted to fight its way to my face; what a feeling to be surrounded by one's companions.

"Do as you've earned, Inquisitor." The chieftain eyed either side, undisturbed by the display. He laughed at me, "My clan yields. My remaining boys have brains still in their heads!" I considered the man before me, as large and imposing as Amund had been when we first met. My gaze drew a long, quiet look from his boots to his horned helmet, wondering at the best course of action.

 _Tevinters?_ I refused to look up and over to Dorian. The mage himself was willing to kill his own countrymen for the safety and security of a future without Corypheus.  _Who says I can't do the same?_  My eyes never left Movran, knowing that anything less would be seen as weakness.

_This is my court. You're in my house now._

"It seems our conflict was accidental, Chief Movran." I answered, my voice echoing off the stonewalls, reverberating toward the entrance. My shoulders shifted higher against the back of the throne, allowing me to project as best I could. "Unfortunately, that can't be repeated."

 _I lost no soldiers to your son,_ my scouting party had only been taken hostage to goad me into a fight.  _But that doesn't mean I want it happening again. I don't know your customs, but I won't have you impose them on me or mine._

"Chief Movran," I called his name, drawing his gaze up to my face, "I banish you and your clan — with as many weapons as you can carry — to Tevinter."  _Because then you're someone else's problem, not mine._ This also ensured that Tevinter had to divert their resources elsewhere as well. There was a ripple that went through the audience. Dorian's laugh, a quick bark of amusement, echoed through the Hall and it gave me some peace of mind that I hadn't overstepped.

Krem grinned from ear to ear, nudging Bull's side briefly. The Qunari waved him off, shushing him, but I couldn't ignore the satisfied grin that settled on his face.

_Whew._

The Chief laughed, "My idiot boy got us something after all!"

"By the decree of the Inquisition, Chief Movran the Under is hereby banished to the lands of Tevinter with the means to arm himself and his clan in their exile." Josephine declared over the rumblings of the crowd, her voice musical through the Hall. "Chief Movran, you and your clan are to return under pain of death."

The Inquisition soldiers saluted us and took the Chief up by his elbows and lead him back toward the exit, but the Avvar only laughed and willingly followed, his grin gleaming across his face. I settled back into my throne and closed my eyes briefly with a sigh, releasing the tension that had bundled up in my chest.  _Gonna end up giving myself heartburn if I keep that up._ The silence prevailed until the Avvar was out of the Hall and Cullen turn toward Josephine first before focusing his attention on me.

The muscles along his jaw jumped as his gaze met mine. I remained as I was, stoic and immobile, my head only turned toward him, chin tilted.  _No favoritism. Remain neutral._ Thank god for Josephine, otherwise I would be a mess. Cullen walked up the steps toward me and saluted with his fist across his chest. My nod allowed him to continue.

"Knight-Captain Denam, Inquisitor. He awaits judgement for serving the Lord Seeker at Therinfal Redoubt." Cullen's voice was gravel on the stones, bouncing around the throne with his veiled anger. He stopped on the highest landing, only a handful of feet from me.

"I knew some of the Knights who died there. I request to oversee his sentencing." Cullen nodded around to the crowd, explaining his presence in the court. More murmurs grew up from the audience, the Templars at the entrance clustered together, unsure if the atmosphere was directed at them as a whole.

I raised a hand and all attention came to me, "Your request is granted on the condition that you accept any sentence I deliver."

"I accept, Inquisitor." Cullen bowed his head gratefully and turned to signal toward the entrance. My heart was ringing in my ears.  _This is different. An Avvar man escapes death with weapons, but a Templar? A man that killed his kin for what? Power? Christ._ A swallow shot down my throat as Denam was led up to the front, standing before me in the same place as Movran.

Cullen drew himself high, "Denam knew the dangers of red lyrium. He murdered the Knight-Vigilant and corrupted his brothers and sisters." The Knight-Captain had his chin tucked to his neck, his gaze boring holes into the stones beneath his feet. For this man, the soldiers held onto his arms with steel grips and their stances were wide to barricade him in case he bolted.

_Did you attempt to run before this?_

I raised a hand to stop Cullen, my attention on Denam. "I question the lucidity of the Knight-Captain. Answer me, are you of sound and sober mind to understand the charges against you?"  _I am not about to convict a man out of his mind. We don't know what the effects of red lyrium are even if he's recovered from his injuries._ Cullen looked at me askant, surprised at my interruption.

The Knight-Captain brought his seething glare from the ground to my face. I could see the scars of pot-marks and brawls along his jaw and cheeks. His hair fell from his eyes and framed his face, darkening the grit of his teeth as he shifted in the hold of the soldiers.

"I only did as I was told!" He snarled at me.

Cullen stepped forward, his tone searing. "We found everything! The corpse of the Knight-Vigilant, even the papers proving you  _knew_  red lyrium was poisonous!"

"Commander." I let the word drop like a gavel. Cullen shuddered with irritation, drawing his spine straight with his fiery gaze nailed to Denam. The Knight-Captain turned away from him and settled his eyes on me before they slipped away to the floor.

"There is a greater power walking this world!" Denam hissed, his shoulders hunched painfully. "I wasn't fool enough to deny it. None of you would have. I  _demand_ justice!" My leg lowered from my knee, my hands moved to the ends of the armrest and my gaze floated to Cullen. Everyone in my near vicinity froze. Cullen and Josephine stiffened like rabbits to run, Blackwall straightened his back against the door with Harritt disappearing into it.

Krem and Bull straightened near the banner, their arms dropping in preparation.

A weird giddy moment of surprise bubbled in my stomach.  _What the hell did they just see? I only put my leg down, guys, holy shit._

"Commander Cullen." My foot hooked behind the opposite ankle as I turned to face him. "Inquisition forces found the body of the Knight-Vigilant and we are accusing Knight-Captain Denam of his murder. The court awaits proof that it was by the hand of Denam that this murder was committed."

Like the threat of rolling thunder and hail, the courtroom went intensely still. The Commander looked to me as if I betrayed him, but I keep my mouth firm and my shoulders level with my gaze.  _I will not fall into the trap of trusting someone's word without evidence. The Salem Witch Trials may not exists here but I know better._

"We have proof, Inquisitor." Josephine interrupted softly. She cleared her throat and gestured toward the wall where Bull and Krem stood. From behind the banner, Knight Templar Delrin Barris appeared. My attention swirled around like wildfire and Ser Barris held my gaze for a brief second before bowing his head to me, a fist across his chest. Denam snarled at him, alarmed.

"Your Worship," Barris straightened, determined. "When you took Knight-Captain Denam into custody, he would have had a ring of keys that opened the doors to their respective rooms and offices, back in Therinfal." Denam's face fell and he made to clutch at his side, but he was stripped of any weapon or article of personal items. I got Josephine in my sights.

"This is true, Inquisitor." She immediately answered, folding her hands before her. "We have this evidence in our possession, found on Denam's person when he was brought into custody."

"Knight Templar Barris," I returned to him, twisting only slight in my seat, "Would any other Templar have access to these keys, or know where to acquire them if the Knight-Captain did not have them?"

"Inquisitor! You're not insinuating —" Cullen approached the throne heatedly and for a moment, I felt panic rise in my throat.  _I'm not about to lose control in our first session, Cullen!_ Without a second thought, I stood from the throne and faced him, staring him down as one would an approaching beast. Cullen stayed his step and gripped his sword, but didn't move.

Blackwall relaxed just beyond the corner of my vision, but I noticed he was far closer to the throne than he had been before.  _Control. Bring it back into control, Jaime, don't let them think there's infighting._

"Cooler heads will reign, Commander." I answered him, tension was the only thing that kept my body from shaking with nerves and anxiety.  _Breathe, Jaime._  "I am not insinuating anything. As a neutral party, the Inquisition must consider all sides of the account, even those we cannot fathom. Am I understood?"

There was silence.

My eyes narrowed. "Am I  _understood_ , Commander?"

"Understood, Inquisitor." Commander Cullen exhaled, releasing his shoulders from their pinch. There was a beat as he took the moment to close his eyes and disengage. He stepped away from me with a bow of his head. Quickly, I shifted my attention to Barris and the poor man snapped upright from a trigger.

"I asked a question, Ser Barris." I reminded him.

Barris swallowed. "These keys are only accessible to our higher command. If any other Templar were to have them, they were given the keys by their supervisor. He also refused our requests to clear out the Knight-Vigilant's quarters."

"Do we know how long the Knight-Vigilant was dead?" I asked between my two prompters. Cullen kept his mouth tight and didn't answer me, so I turned to Josephine and she twitched slightly, but nodded her head.

"According to the reports from our healers, the Knight-Vigilant had been dead for near on a week." Josephine's nose scrunched and she turned to Barris, her eyes alight with curiosity. "Templar Barris. Explain how this absence went unnoticed until the arrival of the Inquisition?"  _Good, thank you, Josephine._ At least someone was siding with my line of thinking.

Barris' face darkened with shame. "We were advised that the Knight-Vigilant had abandoned his post. The state we were in, we could not question the information. I accept responsibility for the transgression."

"Who told you he had abandoned his post, Ser Barris?" I asked firmly.

"Knight-Captain Denam. The other veterans were unaware." Barris replied with certainty. "There was infighting during our congregation, as there was no one to fill the post so suddenly. The Envy demon, then Lord Seeker Lucius, confirmed it."

"Traitor!" Denam screamed at him, hauling at the grips of the soldiers. Barris ignored him, so Denam only screamed louder. "You  _knew_  we wouldn't survive on our own! This was the only way! We would have been slaughtered otherwise!"

"Perhaps death would have been better than this dishonor." Barris answered quietly, his head bowed.

"Knight-Captain Denam." I cut through the man's growling with a step forward. "If you had chosen to support Corypheus, and your letter proves that you were  _aware_  of the poisonous nature of the red lyrium and that it would ultimately destroy the body — is the end result not the same as slaughter?"

"Some of us would have survived!" Denam spat at me, mouth drawn back in a snarl. The soldiers held onto his arms, one of them had hooked his leg around Denam's ankle to keep him in place. "Not all that drank the lyrium succumbed to the effects. The Elder One knew —" He snarled, yanking at his arm in frustration, nearly knocking one of the soldiers from their stance.

_Knew?! Knew what?_

"Denam!" I commanded, stilling all three struggling parties. "Tell me what you know of the red lyrium. How did you know any of your kin would survive?"

"The red lyrium is poisonous, much like the Blight. The Elder One knew that some would die, but others — others would survive and become powerful!" He gritted his teeth and ducked his head, his arms shaking in the grips of the soldiers. "This was all I knew. I chose to live! I knew there was no other way! You're a fool to think you would have survived, we were trapped... "

A sob broke from Denam's throat.

But the case had been settled.

"Knight-Captain Denam." I watched him as he pulled insistently against my soldiers. "The Court of the Inquisition finds you guilty of murder, both of the Knight-Vigilant and of your brethren-in-arms." Denam screamed as he tried to launch out of his jailors' hands, shaking his head as he was held back.

"No!" Denam howled. "You can't! Not after I survived this long! Don't you see?"

"Knight-Captain Denam is to be jailed until tomorrow, there he will be taken to the gallows." I replied, glancing between the soldiers. My heart was thundering in my chest. "The Inquisition will see him hung by the neck until dead, tomorrow at dawn." The soldiers nodded and yanked at Denam, dragging him back down the path toward the entrance. The Templars at the end of the Hall parted like the Red Sea, their faces turned away in shame.

I watched as the man was dragged away and I wondered at what I had just committed. Much like Cole, I was working on what I believed, rather than any form of professional training or experience.  _I need to be careful. I need to make sure I am always the middle line._ My gaze caught the shifting Templars.  _I'm going to need to figure out what to do with them. Denam hadn't been in command, but he was their last superior aside from the veterans._

I turned to Barris, my voice a sigh. "Knight Templar Barris, the Inquisition is appreciative of your participation and acknowledges your willingness to take responsibility. This court judges you guiltless."

"Thank you, Inquisition." Barris bowed his head, his eyes shut tightly.

"As previously agreed, the Templar Order is in an alliance with the Inquisition. You are free to stay amongst the ranks until you deem the Order fit to depart." Commander Cullen interjected, his voice firm despite the exhaustion I could see around his mouth and eyes.

"Understood. We shall remain until further notice." Barris acknowledge as he raised his head. My eyes found Josephine, I waved my right hand gently, my request silent:  _let's end this, please._

"The Court of the Inquisition has ended." Josephine's voice rang clear through the Hall. "These matters are settled. The Inquisitor will now retire."

_Thank the fucking Maker._


	13. ACT II: Sweet Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime learns that nightmares would have been better than dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, you guys. I'm so excited to be here. I can't wait for you to see this. I hope you have as much fun with it as I did. 
> 
> Also, wanted to let you all know that I do frequent Tumblr:  
> http://mekaidalo.tumblr.com/
> 
> Visit me or stalk!

Josephine's office was an unsanctioned showdown room. I had retreated into the office the  _moment_  I had been dismissed from my duties at court and the others came hot on my heels. Cullen stormed in after me, somehow beating out Josephine from getting in first, Leliana followed them in not long after.  _She probably started making a mad dash to the office when the trial was winding down._

"Inquisitor —" Cullen started in on me. My Marked left hand rose to meet his face with a foot of space between us, my fingers held like a salute.

"Oh, no, no, no." I interrupted, my index finger wagging. "We are not doing this without alcohol. I am all for letting you say your piece, Cullen, but I am  _not_  doing it  _sober_." Leliana had already been making her way over to Josephine's shelves and had reached the brandy bottle as I spoke.

Josephine's feathers ruffled. "Commander, surely we all here can agree that this was a marvelous display. Better than we expected, even!"  _I am not sure how_ that _was meant, but I am not going to drag more fuel to the raging bonfire that is Cullen._ The Commander twisted his lips tightly and a hand ran through his curls, fraying them all along the way.

"We can agree on that much," Cullen eyed the glass of brandy being brought over to me by Leliana. "But what disturbed me is the  _manner_ in which we arrived to our conclusion."

"I daresay it went exactly as I predicted." Leliana chirruped next to me, a side glance tossed my way as I took a hard swing from the glass. Her eyes shifted to Cullen. "I did warn you that she wasn't going to just take our word for it."

"A little trust would have been appreciated." Cullen heatedly shot back. I swallowed hard, wagging my index at him again, the glass held precariously in my hand as I did so.

"Look here," I croaked, my throat burnt by the drink, "I  _trust_  you, implicitly, irresponsibly almost. But I am not willing to chuck a man to death on the word of a man who has a personal  _stake_ in the matter."

"My loyalties lie with the Inquisition!" Cullen hissed at me, rounding his anger my way. Josephine leaned out of the way of the blast. I could see Cassandra come in through the door behind her and the look of Immediate Death came upon her face.

"I'm not saying they  _don't_ , Cullen." I withheld using his title, I didn't want to metaphorically spit in the man's face, after all. "But you've gotta see it from the court's point of view,  _no one_  knows he's guilty until we prove it so — we can't just tell them he is! Do you know what kind of madness that would start?"

"I agree." Cassandra sailed in like a wraith, wedging herself between Josephine and the Commander. With the opportunity presented, I took another drink of the brandy. I was extremely grateful to Leliana for having nearly topped off the glass rather than leaving a dredge of it at the bottom.

"We had the Knight-Vigilant's body!" Cullen snapped back with a hard look to Cassandra. "What other proof did we need?"

"That means shit all to me." I answered after the second swallow. "So what? Excluding the nobles and children, every fucking person in that courtroom is capable of killing a man." Josephine was quick to hide a laugh behind her hand and fluttered her fingers away when Leliana glanced at her.

"The Inquisitor was making sure that our nobility understood the evidence." Leliana attempted to appease him, her hands behind her back. "And I agree with her — you have no connection to the Templars any more, but to suddenly come in demanding retribution?"

"Conflict of interest." I muttered around the lip of the glass. "If I just took you at your word, people would think the Templars were just a plaything, not an ally." Cullen's jaw gripped his teeth tightly for a long second before he exhaled roughly and shook his head. After my third hearty sip, I handed the glass out to my Commander.

He took it with a sour look and downed the rest of it.

"We're in this together, Cullen." I reached out and patted his shoulder, letting my hand rest there. "But I got to make sure I cover our asses as well."

"Months ago you wouldn't have been such a thorn in our side." Cullen muttered, wiping his palm down his mouth politely. At my curious eyebrow raise, he continued: "I remember when you used to just… cower at the sight of us."

"Well, yeah." I laughed. "And then I got to know you assholes."

"Being in one's comfort zone does induce bravery." Leliana added, a small smirk on her face. She focused on Cassandra as I took the glass from Cullen. "The nobility?"

"Pleased." Cassandra answered, gruff but not upset. "Pacified. I have no doubt Ferelden and Orlais will receive the news within the hour, and by tomorrow, more requests to come in." I had wandered away to snatch the brandy bottle from the shelf, bringing it over to Josephine's desk as I served myself another glass. Only half full this time, to be safe.

"... I apologize, Inquisitor." Cullen exhaled, slumping in his armor slightly. "I — lost my temper. I wanted to see justice terribly, and forgot myself."

"I know, Cullen." I walked over, the glass cradled in both my hands. "You scared the shit outta me, comin' at me like that."

"It was worrisome, yes." Cassandra intoned, eying Cullen darkly. "I was certain Blackwall would have gutted you on the spot." The Warden had taken up a spot behind the throne and the implication had not been lost on me. Blackwall's loyalty to the Inquisition was a hard maybe, but loyal to  _me_? Absolutely. I would need to be extremely careful with that knowledge.

"I will apologize for that, too." Cullen reached for my drink and I handed it over without a fuss. "It was insubordination, and unacceptable."

"But you handled it stunningly." Josephine popped up, pleased, her hands clapped together. "Oh, and it was a sight. If no one believed you could hold the mantle of Inquisitor, there will be no doubts now." The flush of my cheeks could be blamed on the brandy. Avoidantly, I shot my gaze to Leliana.

"So we're in the clear now, right? Trials are over, people are settled, we can get back out into the world, yes?" I hijacked the conversation.

"Yes. The world has not stopped to wait for us. We still have the Empress' assassination to concern ourselves with, as well as several other issues that have now appeared in the Hinterlands." Leliana ticked off with a bounce of her chin after each one. My mood soured considerably, but I wasn't one to deny the excitement of getting back out into the world.

_God. How times have changed._

"Alright, so let's hold off on Empress Celene." I waved a hand lightly. "Her thing isn't for another three months, so pin it. Do we even have an invitation?"

"I am doing what I can to acquire one." Josephine told our huddle. She placed her hands before her stomach and sighed. "Unfortunately, up until now, we hadn't the clout to ask, but after this we might."

"Check." I nodded. With a short glance, I bounced between Leliana, Cassandra, and Cullen. "What's happening in the Hinterlands? I thought we had that place locked down?"

"We do." Cullen answered and rubbed at his chin. "But… this  _problem_  is a bit bigger." Hot suspicion dripped down my lungs, stuttering my breath. I narrowed my eyes at him and waited. He clicked his teeth, "We've disturbed a dragon's nest. She's quite upset with us, and is now terrorizing the land."

"We fucking did what." I deadpanned.  _For a moment, I almost forgot about those fucking things._ "I — what. No."

"Yes, unfortunately." Cassandra stopped my floundering. "We had received word of its existence about a week ago and have been attempting to formulate a way to deal with her." Cullen exhaled roughly, running both his hands down the back of his neck with a shake of his head.

"I take it that means we have no ideas?" I asked the dead air.

"Essentially." Leliana answered cheerily. "We've attempted to lure her away, but her eggs have hatched, so she will not leave them. We cannot get close enough to capture her clutch without losing soldiers by the tenfold, and she's in a defensible quarry."

"She has the upperhand on us." Cassandra nodded her head with a quick look at Leliana. Her gaze moved to settle on me. "... forgive me, I had not yet learned how to hunt dragons effectively before…"

"Ah, don't worry about it, Cass." My hand shot up to stop her with a shake of my head. "We'll… figure something out. Okay. Empress. Hinterlands. Dragon. Anything else?" At this, my companions fell silent and my meter of suspicion shot up with all the strength of a rocket ship.

With hands on my hips, I said, "Spit it out."

"Jaime." Leliana started. I knew I was in fucking trouble the minute my name left her mouth. My arms dropped against my sides and I nearly flinched away from her at the tone. She wasn't angry, but the use of my name was never a good sign. She didn't quite smile, but her hand came to my elbow, keeping me in place.

"We've… discussed something that we believe could help you." Leliana glanced between the others, but no one contested her. "We've searched for trainers that would be assisting with your improvement."

"What?" I frowned, shooting a look toward Cullen and Cassandra. "Is… the training with the soldiers not enough?"

"Not for what we're asking you to do, no." Cullen murmured gently, shame lacing his voice. He took over from Leliana, drawing in my attention to him. "Jaime, we've asked you to do quite a bit — each trial more fantastical than the last — but we've realized that now…"

"We've placed you in the path of a would-be God." Cassandra jutted in like a stab, her brow hard over her narrowed eyes. "A maul, even enchanted, can only do so much. We've found trainers that are specialists in their fields, masters of discipline that many have forgotten."

"What… are you suggesting?" I asked, terrified of the answer.  _Are they talking about magic? What more could you do to train the body? It's not like drinking lyrium is suddenly going to make me a mage._ Josephine stepped away from our huddle and moved to her desk, pulling open a drawer and searching through it.

"Josephine will have the documents, there are three masters we have found that have been vetted for you." Leliana shifted on her heel and allowed Josephine to come in closer after finding her parchment scrolls. They were handed to me, bundled together with a long bowed piece of twine.

"I would suggest you considered the options, Jaime." Cassandra said solemnly. "We here can no longer protect you. You need to recognize that. The enemies we have are far beyond the realm of mortals."

"The decision does not need to be immediate." Josephine soothed, bringing her hand up to take Leliana's off my elbow, but I had long lost focus on the point of contact. My mind was racing with the possibilities and terrors of what they were asking me to do. This is how we turned into a villain, by reaching for more power. Wasn't it bad enough that the Mark was already out of my control?

 _Ignoring the fact that I haven't actually_ used _the damn thing since escaping Haven._

I swallowed and the scrolls bounced in my hands. "I'll… take a look at this. Are they already here?"

"No," Josephine shook her head, "We are planning to summon them once you've decided. After everything that has happened today, perhaps it's best you sleep on it."

"Good fucking idea." I answered, scooping the scrolls against my side and using my Marked hand to rub my face.  _I didn't drink enough to deal with this. Wonderful._ Going back to the tent at least gave me the opportunity to hit the tavern for a hearty drink.

"Speaking of which," Josephine bounced on her heels lightly, "your room was finally finished!"

I blinked, hard. "My — what?"

"Your room?" Josephine stuttered, surprised. "Did you — did you believe we would not have one prepared for you? In your own  _fort?_ "

"... yes." I answered honestly. "I figured I was just tenting up with the soldiers or something, like. Out at the back of the fort?" Josephine reached up with a reverence dug deep from her soul and held her fingers tight to the bridge of her nose. No doubt she was calling for patience. Cullen could be heard snickering behind me with a heavy sigh from Cassandra.

"Guys, is that really so unbelievable?" I snapped at them, reaching over to smack at Cullen's breastplate with a light tap from the back of my hand. "Stop laughing, drunkard."

"I had half a glass!" Cullen defended with a laugh. "Unbelievable. Yes, the room was completed. The last of the furniture has been moved in. Inspect it, if you like."

Leliana smirked. "One day people will actually listen to me when I predict these things."

"Did you predict I wasn't expecting a room?" I asked Leliana waspishly, fighting my amusement.

"Absolutely. I even suspect that you would have countered that the room could be used for something better, like a healing wing." Her smirk went wider across her face as my ears went red. It made Cullen laugh harder and the flush flooded from my ears down to my chin. The scrolls were crushed against my side with embarrassment.

"I hate you guys." I snipped and moved around to set my somehow empty glass on Josephine's desk, mindful of the other parchments and scrolls she had set out. "Where's this room?"

-0-

So they had lied to me, straight up. It wasn't a  _room_  like what one would assume constituted a normal room. It was, in itself, a  _house_. Josephine had abandoned me at the entrance of my room and allowed me to travel up the stairs on my own. I had succumbed to a minor heart attack once I reached the top of the flight of stairs and the room blew out before my feet.

The ceilings were vaulted, high and severe over my head, the stonework held up by the exposed beams of wood. The walls dropped down and rested over massive, gaping windows that fed out to a balcony that surrounded the whole thing. The inside was a touch cold with the glass doors of those windows opened wide, the fireplace blazing viciously to keep itself alive.

I walked over to the far corner, it was bordered by four book shelves that were stuffed to bursting with tomes. Shifting around the desk carefully, I found that the tomes were ones I had read before, mixed in with Varric's own works and history books, with smaller journals dotted at the top. There was a small lute to one side and the desk was sized for me with a chair that looked newly polished, with a name carved into the side.

Knees bending with small pops, I inspected the name.

 _Blackwall_.

Goddamnit.

My jaw muscles lit up with fireworks as I clenched my teeth, bringing my right hand to hold my mouth as I stayed there, hunched on my knees. A few hard blinks and deep breaths later, I was calmer and the threat of tears had been waylaid. Clearing my throat, I stood and wandered the rest of the room. A couch against the railing of the stairs had passed my attention, but it also brought my eyes up to see the banners pinned to the wall. The Eye of the Inquisition looked in from the top of each window, glowing with the evening light.

I was too tired to explore the storage area behind the bed and too afraid of stumbling over the railing to inspect the balcony. The bed itself was massive just like the rest of the room, with a handful of pillows wrapped in soft blue cloth. The bedding smelled of lavender when I pressed down into the mattress and the whole thing gave out under me.  _Oh, it's too soft. I'm not going to be able to sleep on that._ I tested it, sitting back on it before laying out flat.

The mattress had me scrambling to escape when it slowly began to swallow me.  _Yup, nope. Too soft. I got too used to cots and straw-filled beds._ With a sigh, I drew the covers and comforter off the bed and dragged it all over to the fireplace, leaving plenty of space for any embers that escaped. A few pillows followed as well and not long after I had a nest of my own, stone-hard ground or not.

I found the chest of drawers that held clothes for me. Josephine would be to blame for all of it, as it all fit with only a few shortages here and there. In my rummaging, a night gown found my hands and with a soft tug, I pulled it from the depths of the drawer.

It was laced silk and the near liquid nature of it made me shiver.  _When was the last time I had something this nice?_  It was almost a crime to use it, but I had nothing better to wear. I set it out on top of the naked mattress and proceeded to walk to each window and bring it shut, latching the handles together to keep the wind at bay. Secured that no one would dive in like a villain, I undressed and slipped into the night gown.

The bitter chill of the room nipped at my skin, but I relished the freedom. With a few twirls, I watched as the lace danced around my knees and settled against my darkened skin. A grin flashed on my face and if I had any type of music available, it would have been one hell of a dancing session. Instead, I hurried to my bedding near the fireplace and huddled into the covers and pillows.

My mind drifted away without a moment's notice, lulled to sleep by the crackle and hiss of the fireplace and the warmth of the blankets and brandy.

-0-

When I next opened my eyes, I was home.

And I mean,  _home-_ home. Back to  _my_  world. The desert landscape was washed before me, the gentle hiss of cicadas in the Palo Verde trees echoed in my ears with the low set of sunlight off to the west, casting the sky in orange and purples. A lump of coal lodged in my throat and before I knew it, I was stumbling down the sandy, rocky hill toward my backyard. Tall, silent Saguaros threw long shadows along the sand, hiding holes where bugs and lizards rested, the distant rattle of a dried bush drifted through my ears.

The cinder block wall that bordered my home rose before me, guarding my yard from intruders. Without stopping, one foot rose to snag the wall and lift my weight up, my hands automatically reaching out to catch the top of the wall with practiced ease and I hauled my body over. The backyard looked the same as always, littered with broken car pieces from Jake's projects, dried paint buckets and tarps on the other far end from Caleb's artwork.

The sight of my brothers' presence in the yard, though normal for where I was, hit me like a freight train. My body slipped from the top of the wall and hit the dirt with a thud, but I rolled with my weight and my back hit something solid enough to stop me. My hips dropped to hit the ground and I turned my head to look up. Whatever this was, the atmosphere was shattered by the sight before me.

"Solas?" My voice cracked on his name. The elf blinked down at me, just as surprised as I was, his eyes blown wide with thirsty curiosity and hungry for answers.

"Jaime." He breathed, reaching a hand out for me to take and when I did, he pulled me up to my feet. He waited until I cleared away most of the sandy dust from my clothes. "I am to deduce you would happen to know where we are?"

"Home," I answered heartbrokenly, my words caught in my throat. "What — how are you  _here_?"

Solas' expression cracked with pain. "... this is the Fade, my friend. You… I am not sure how you managed it, but you dreamed and brought part of your world into the Fade."

"What?" I asked sharply. "How the fuck — there's no Fade in my world."

"No, that is true." Solas countered, raising a single finger. "But  _you_  exist in a world that does have the Fade. Remember what you've been taught."

I pondered, rubbing at my neck. "The Fade… is memories of its occupants. Spirits can manipulate their areas of influence."

" _Yes_ ," Solas followed up vehemently, amazement bright across his face. "Look at what you've brought here, Jaime. Your thoughts, your memories, your essence brought you  _home_." He watched me as I glanced around the yard, broken beyond pieces that all that I saw wasn't real. My feet took me away from him, my house stood silent and lifeless, no lights bloomed from the inside even as the night crawled across the sky.

"Why here?" I asked, suddenly tired from holding my heart together.

"Your home is familiar. It will always be important to you." Solas came to my side, tilting his face to inspect mine before he turned toward the house, his voice quiet. "Lead me inside? Is this a childhood home or a recent one?"

"Recent." I sighed. We cut through my backyard to the sliding door that led into the house. Without a thought and on pure routine instinct, I tapped my toes to clear off the sand and stepped inside. Solas watched, extremely curious, and slipped in beside me, shoeless. His eyes scanned the interior of my home, mapping out the layout and pinging curiosities he couldn't identify.

We had entered into the open kitchen, the countertops out to our left, winding along the corner to house the sink, oven, and fridge. It bled into a small dining area, with a four-legged oak table and a mismatch of wooden chairs that to the trained eye were definitely from different sets. The living room was held off by a half-wall, but open as well, and where one hall broke to the left to the master room, another broke to the right for the two other rooms.

"Your brothers lived with you?" He asked with a tentative step onto the linoleum floor. A smile touched my face at the dainty step he managed, unsure if he was about to slip.

"No. This belonged to my parents, but when they retired, they moved out and left the home to us." I kicked off my shoes, pausing briefly when I realized they were sneakers rather than the boots I had become familiar with over the last few months. The pang of pain went ignored within the depths of my chest.

Solas looked up, spying the ceiling fan and watched it twirl. "You visited the home often, then?"

"I lived here off and on as I worked and finished my education." I answered, moving toward the kitchen and running my hands over the polished desert stone. "Our summers were becoming hotter than normal, but the winters were manageable." I tested the sink and got the pleasure of watching Solas jump at the sudden rush of water and the splatter into the sink. He peered around me, focused, and then just as fast disappeared to discover more.

"Which room was yours?" He asked, standing between the kitchen and living room. The couches were old and beaten, with a collection of pillows taken from other homes or thrift shops. No television was in the home, just the rows and rows of shelves with numerous books of all types that cluttered the walls.

"Down the right, first door to the left." I took him down the carpeted hallway and stopped when I realized he wasn't beside me. I laughed when I spotted him down on his haunches, testing the somewhat shaggy carpet between his fingers.

"What strange material. This is not animal fur." He tugged on it, a few strands came loose in his fingers and he stood, brow pinched in concentration as he studied the material.

"Well, I don't know if this is acrylic or nylon, but it's not wool, that's for sure." I slipped my hands into my pockets, sighing at the feel of the denim material. "Man-made wool, I guess. Feels the same, but it lasts longer and is a fraction of the cost of shearing animals for their hair."

"Fascinating." He brushed his palms together and stepped onto it, taking a moment to test his toes in it before nodding and coming toward me. A chuckle escaped me and I shook my head, waving him into my old bedroom.

The walls were copper color, from top to bottom. A ceiling fan swung lightly from the center, the graying blades whistling as they cut through the air. Hundreds of photos, both framed and not, dotted my walls. Friends and family, motorcycles and projects, graphic concepts, artwork, drawings. Each one more painful than the last. I closed my eyes for a second and fought back the hot swell; instead, I focused on Solas.

His gaze was glued to my workbench. A smile stretched across my face as he ran his fingers over my small models, my tablet and lamp, the computer screen, and the keyboard. None of it turned on, and I don't know how much I would have handled introducing him to  _that_  technology, but —

"Is this the ' _lap top'_?" He turned to me, ears twitching.

I did laugh this time and moved toward the workbench, "Yeah, kinda. See here. This part is the docking station. Kinda like a berth for a ship. You disconnect here, and I can walk around with it, or place it in my lap." I reached across him and pulled the laptop out from under the main computer screen and removed it. With it in my hands, I settled onto my bed and flipped it open, but there was no power source. The screen remained dark, our faces reflected on the surface.

He sat with me, his gaze flowing over my room and decorations. Half of them I couldn't remember anymore, the other half hazes in my mind. The photos were too much to look over, so many faces that I had forgotten. My fingers traced the lines of the monitor before letting it fall shut. Solas' eyes came back to me, his expression patient.

"I can't remember their voices anymore." I said into the empty silence, my voice quiet. "I can barely remember their faces. I remember… such weird things about them."

"What do you remember?" Solas asked, his voice low to match mine.

"I can remember what it felt like, when my dad — my father, would hug me." I held onto the laptop with limb hands, unsure of where to place them. "I can remember his arms felt like steel — iron. I can remember my mother's fingertips…" Tears welled up at the corners of my eyes and I reached up to wipe them away.

"I can remember Jake's smell." I stuttered, my nose stuffed with emotion. "The oil from his machines, but not him. I can remember Caleb's paints and how his hands felt, but nothing else. It's so weird. Why can I remember the  _house_  but not them?"

Solas folded his hands together. "... I could not tell you why. The mind is a creation beyond our understanding. I have known spirits who can recall their dying breath, but not their name." We sat in silence again, the whine of the ceiling fan a strange comfort just above our heads. I rose from the bed after a minute and set the laptop away.

"Solas." I stared at my desk, my hands fiddling with old works and paper. "What happened in that jail? I don't know anything before waking up." My mind had shuttered to a full stop. Wayward thoughts and running commentary at my state of life had grinded to a halt. The overwhelming sickness of being home and having it all be just a memory was smothering me.

"I was asked to see to your health, when you first arrived. It was a day or so after the blast that they had found you in the rubble." Solas remained on the bed, his hands still folded together with his gaze to my back. "I sat beside you while you slept, studying the Anchor."

"I'm glad someone was watching over me." I replied listlessly. The workbench lost my attention as a photo dipped loose from its tape holding. I reached up to straighten it, the snout of a dog's nose the main focus.

Solas shrugged behind me, "You were a mystery. You  _still_  are." The bed creaked softly when his weight disappeared and I found him leaving to inspect the furthest wall of my bedroom. The photos were pinned one on top of another, splatterings of memories and references that I used for my work, my life before. He tugged at one, an unknown woman who stood on a bench with her arms over her head, a silent cheer into the ether.

"I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade, yet found nothing." He replaced it using the piece of tape still stuck to it. "Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn't produce results." A snort left me and I walked over to him, searching the wall myself for anything familiar.

"Because  _of course_  she did." I chuckled, reaching up high for a photo. "She's come a long way, I'd say."

"That she has." Solas shared my chuckle, watching me. He shook his head, his attention returned to the other pictures, leaning into a few to inspect them and their high definition quality. "You were never going to wake up. How could you, a mortal sent  _physically_  through the Fade?" The photo I wanted came down into my hands, nearly slipping through my fingers. It was of myself and my brothers, pressed together for the picture, sunglasses on our faces.

_We shared the same eyes. All three of us._

"I was frustrated, frightened." Solas murmured, spying over my shoulder, his voice against my skin. "The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach." He sighed and reached for the photo and stared at it deeply as if willing the subjects within to animate.

"Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra… or she in me. I was ready to flee." He ran a thumb over our faces, head tilted in surprise at the texture of the photo and then passed it back to me. I held onto it, my fingers trembling. I had never imagined a world without Solas, but to know I had been so very close to existing without his help choked me.

"But you stayed." I said breathlessly.

"I did." Solas said. He tilted his head the other way and raised a beckoning index finger to have me follow him. I did so without question and we stepped toward the window of my bedroom that overlooked the landscape, unobscured by anything other than nature herself. A flash of green and gray overtook the darkening sky and then a roll of thunder followed. I rushed to the window, the photo floating forgotten to the floor.

 _The Breach!_  It quaked in the yawning evening sky, rolling with turbulent clouds and thunder groaning as the lightning flashed between it all. Solas leaned into the windowsill with me, eyeing the sky beyond us.

"I told myself: one more attempt to seal the rifts." He raised the window open, the once dry, warm desert air had turned dank with the smell of rain and the threat of a storm. "I tried and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them." He folded his arms over the sill and stared out as if he had done it a thousand times before. My gaze refused to leave his profile, wondering at the magnitude of his story.

_I was almost alone._

_I would have had to do it all by myself._

"I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee, and then…"  _You,_  his gaze said to me, turning to catch mine and the chill of the rain still so far off caught me in my throat, bolting me to my place.

"It seems you hold the key to our salvation. At the cost of your own soul being cast into the depths of damnation." He stood straight and leaned against the wall, waiting until I stood away from the window, half a smirk on his face. "You had sealed it with a gesture… and right then, I felt the whole world change."

"I'm glad you decided to stay." The words were thick against my tongue, fear and nausea swirled in my stomach and yanked at my lungs to try and overthrow them. I only had as much knowledge on the Fade and the Mark as I did, only understood it for what it was, and the danger it could have been, would have been,  _will be_  because he was there to teach me.

"As am I." He smiled at me, arms crossed against his chest. "You have fractured rules of man and nature, and you will shatter more before you are done." He shook his head and brought his hands up, reaching out to hold my face as he had once done in my healing tent all those weeks ago. His palms were cold against my face, his fingers over the valleys of my ears.

"Visiting me here, without magic or any connection to the Fade… it should not have been so easy for you." He murmured, holding my face like porcelain.

"What do you mean?" I asked quietly.

"How do you think you got here?" He asked just as quietly, a mischievous tilt to his words. I frowned and looked around us as best I could with my face in his hands. Slowly, the walls of my room began to fade away, the photos falling from their place and fluttering around us.

"This isn't real." I murmured, glancing back at him. He chuckled, patting his palms against my cheeks.

"That's a matter of debate… probably best discussed after you  _wake up_."


	14. ACT II: The Stirrings in the Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime begins to lay down battle plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For whatever you celebrate (or don't!) have a happy surprise gift from me! With all my love, to you.

My body jolted awake and shuddered against the blankets I was caught up in. My heart raced at a rabbit's pace behind my ribs. I ripped up from the blankets, a frantic look around told me I was back in Skyhold, back in the nest I had made in front of the fire. The light outside the windows was young, coming from a sunrise rather than the sunset I had fallen asleep to. It was a moment more before I scrambled out of my blankets in search of water.

_What the hell was that?_

There was a pitcher of it that sat near my bed. I retrieved a cup and took a few hearty swallows. The cup sat back on the nightstand and I stood there with my hands braced on the edge of the stand. The rush of my breathing whipped in my ears and a shudder shook my neck as sweat dripped down from my hairline. It took a few more minutes before the shaking stopped and my heart slowed to a normal pace.

 _What in God's name…_ I shot an accusatory glance at my left hand.  _Could it be the Mark? Is it strong enough now to connect me to the Fade? I need to think._  I wasn't about to go running to Solas in this state since there was far too high of a chance that I would babble like a moron.  _Wait it out. List it all up first._ I would need to start my day in a different way.

The trouble with the room I was in now, so high in the tower was that there was no easy means to get a bath set up. Nothing warm, at least. There was enough water in a barrel in the storage space for me to rinse down with a cloth and dress so I was mildly presentable. Step one; complete. This would likely be my last few days in Skyhold before I went back out into the world to deal with the problems at large.

_Like dancing with a fucking dragon._

Dressed in my normal garb of tunic and pants, the coat was left over the dresser and I set about fixing the bed (just in case a servant came in and found my nest). Finished with covering up my more animalistic tendencies, I moved toward my desk and took a seat in the chair Blackwall had carved for me. It was sturdy and though it lacked the ability to lean back, it was functional. The scrolls Josephine had given me were still nestled at the center of the desk, waiting for my curiosity to read through them.

_I might as well._

There was a small note from our Quartermaster, Ser Morris, and it seemed he had been the one to put forth the idea that my training needed to go beyond whatever the Inquisition could currently offer. It brought a smile to my face to think that someone else was keeping an eye out for us. I opened one after the other, reading over the description for the services and training they would give me.

The first was an Orlesian noble by the name of Chancer de Lion. A long line of leadership and military experience followed the man. Known extensively throughout Orlais as a stark defender and reliable champion of the people. I twisted my mouth in thought,  _not a bad start. Defense is good. Learning to use a shield would be nice, but could I handle a sword?_

He would be useful if we kept him around to train a lot of the civilians on how to defend their new home. It would keep them out of most of the fighting (hopefully) and leave the soldiers with more attention to spare when it came to the actual battlefield.  _Could I convince him to stay around and train others?_

That was a hard maybe.

The second was extremely interesting. The only signed name was  _Ser_ , and there was an added note to clearly state that he Was Not Affiliated with the Templar Order.  _Noted, ser._  The rest of it was self-explanatory and I would be a liar if I couldn't admit that the idea of learning what the Templars  _did_  wasn't intriguing. The only part of it that worried me greatly was the use of lyrium.  _Cullen and Barris have made mentioned that the stuff can be addictive. Even Josephine mentioned some of the Templars going feral without it._

It posed a unique problem. Knowing what the Templars did and how they used it against the Fade and demons was a boon to be sure, but what would happen  _after_  when it was all said and done?  _Would that mean I would have to file in rank with the Templars?_  Half my forces were already Templars, so if we needed to train anyone else, they were available to do so.  _Not like they wouldn't want to bolster their forces after such a devastating lost with the Envy demon._

Hmm. That was going to be a no, then. I didn't want or need what I already had, and Cullen had told me stories of his years with the Order. It took an immense amount of training and dedication, and my attentions were already devoted elsewhere. I set the scroll aside and moved to the shortest one of the three.

The last one made me laugh.  _Breaker Thram. Holy shit._ Her specialization didn't have much in the way of a description. All she had written down to offer her services was:  _You wish to inspire? Inspire terror._  I knew better than to be led down the rabbit hole of power, because that's how someone ended up on the wrong side of a superhero movie.  _Wanting to do good with the power you have, only to turn into the villain you tried to defeat._ The simplistic, minimalistic nature of her offer intrigued me, though.

_I'm always a sucker for getting to the point._

I would have to ask Josephine to bring in Breaker Thram. Decided, I left my desk and collected the scrolls under my arm before heading back down and out to Josephine's office. The fort was quiet and it was only then that I realized how early in the morning I was skulking around. Surprised, I scurried over to Josephine's desk and left the scrolls on top of her books. After a moment, I pulled up her quill and left a note on the parchment to request Thram be invited to Skyhold.

Out into the main hall I wandered. It was quiet and had an odd thrum like an empty church. Braziers cracked with low flames and shadows danced along the stone walls as I walked past them. The fireplace at the far end of the hall by the entrance was also low, but as I spied over the table, I could see a few parchment rolls of Varric's handwriting. The dwarf was nowhere to be found.

With a turn, I snuck through the rotunda. Solas was also absent, perhaps too early for him as well.  _Come back to talk to him about that dream, for sure._ It gave me an excuse to slip away up the stairs and higher into the tower. The mages that had been up here with Dorian were absent, the windows glinting with the low morning light. The fluttering of bird wings and impatient caws brought my attention upward. I scaled the stairs in their wide circle to make it all the way to the top of the tower.

Leliana stood by the open door that led out to her balcony. Cullen just beside her.

"I am sorry." Leliana spoke gently.

Cullen shook his head and left her side, "So am I."

I was stuck, there was nowhere in the landing to hide that he would not see me as he walked past. The Commander said nothing to me as he made his way out. My head ducked quietly and I watched as his feet shuffled past mine, hitting the stairs with a soft clank from his boots. There was a pause and my gaze came up to Leliana, my Spymaster's careful eyes focused on me, but mine spied something silver in her grasp.

She lifted it, a cylinder of silver. "The names of those we've lost. You must blame me for this." A sharp sting popped my lungs and I exhaled, tight in my shoulders as I walked up to her table. She left the cylinder on the table closest to me.

"We all saw who attacked us." I answered quietly. "We know  _exactly_  who to blame." A silence fogged up between us, her eyes strayed to my hand from the cylinder and back. She shook her head and pushed away from the table, her gaze turning to the windows where the sunlight was weakest.

"I keep wondering if I could've done something different." Leliana murmured against the glass, the fog of her breath appearing for a few seconds. "When the first of my lookouts went missing, I pulled the rest back, awaiting more information." A reactive plan, a limb jerking away at pain to avoid any more that would come. I couldn't and wouldn't blame her for that.  _She saved them from being captured._

"If they'd stayed in the field, they could've brought us more time." She exhaled with her lips pressed tight together. She scoffed, pained and mournful, "I was afraid to lose my agents, and instead we lost Haven."

"We would have lost Haven anyway, it was a chapel, not a fortress." I interjected. I walked toward the end of the table where the windows overlooked the parchments and scrolls she gathered up against the wall. "You saved your men. We would have lost them to the horde, to the snow. To the  _dragon_."

"You don't know that." Leliana countered darkly, a sharp glance at me over her shoulder with half her face hidden by her hood. "Their lives could've bought Haven a small chance."

"We would have  _died_ in that grave." I shot back fiercely, keeping my voice low to avoid the echo of the tower. "Nothing — no warning, no planning,  _nothing_  would have saved us from a dragon. We were in a home made for pilgrims, not armies."

Leliana shook her head hard. "My people know their duty. They know the risks. They understand that the Inquisition may call upon them to give their lives."

"Our people aren't tools to be used and discarded." I resisted the urge to smack my knuckles against the table. I understood her, I truly did, because I had to wade my way through those same thoughts nearly every day.  _But I can't have my Spymaster second-guessing her tactics!_

"Leliana." Her name drew her attention to me and I held her gaze with mine. "Your instincts were  _right_. Their lives  _matter_."

She was just as quick to bite. "Can we afford sentimentality? What if Corypheus —"

"We're better than Corypheus!" I snapped, my voice warbling as I controlled my volume. "You start using bodies to hold up a bridge without offering them support, you're going to see the whole thing fall to pieces because  _no one_ likes being sacrificed." My Spymaster turned to face me fully, her eyes wide for a second before the same soft smirk fell upon her lips.

"You've become so commanding as of late." There was a laugh in her tone somewhere, I could almost hear it. She smiled, her arms folded behind her back. "I understand, Inquisitor. I apologize for my weakness."

"It's not weakness to care, Leliana." I sighed, rapping my knuckles against the table. "But I forgive you for being a sap." I smiled as a true laugh escaped her, and never before had I felt so elated at the sound of someone's laughter. It warmed me much like the sun's rays and she took the moment for herself, relieved. She settled back into her normal, quiet self after a moment or two, but her eyes were brighter for it.

"I very much doubt you came up here to cheer me up." She murmured peacefully. "How may I be of service?"

"Okay, so." I laughed. "First off, I need you to check through the roster for a Mira that came to us from Orlais. She's got a look to her that I think you'll put to good use."

Leliana smirked, "Understood. I could always add another to the flock. Anything else?"

"Speaking of birds." I gave an amused huff. I took a seat at her table while she remained standing across from me, poised and graceful. "Hawke. How much do you know?"

"For once, not much." She admitted lightly. "He was here for only a few days. I suspect Cassandra has gotten wind of it, as a few of our soldiers recognized him before he left."

"So that's probably why I haven't found Varric anywhere, huh?" I joked. Leliana offered me a small shrug, but laughter tugged at the corner of her mouth and eyes. "Right. Well. He might have a few leads for us. Bethany is still alive, from the sounds of it. And another Warden has entered our mists."

"Oh?" She piqued her curiosity enough for me to see it cross her lips. "Do tell."

"Warden Stroud. He didn't disappear with the rest of the Wardens, they're hunting  _him_. He disagrees with something they've done." My knuckles tapped against the tabletop again, a muted rhythm within the wood. "Hawke also has him looking into the sources and symptoms of red lyrium."

She frowned. "Is he? Interesting. I know Hawke and Varric had become very disturbed by its effects within its victims. I had wondered if there was a link between the idol they had found in the Deep Roads and the red lyrium we recently found in the Temple."

"Yeah, same." My hands rose to rub at my cheeks. "I didn't think of that, but I remember it from the story. What's to stop it from being an external force as much as an internal one?"

"Nothing that we know of." Leliana muttered. "I shall send word that any red lyrium found must be quarantined until further notice. We must find some way to dispose of it."

"Check." I listed it off with a flick of my index finger. "Which leads to the next point; Hawke has agreed to let me meet his Warden and talk to him. I'm hoping I can find out what happened to the rest of them."

Leliana nodded. "Good. If we know where they are, then even if they do not side with us, we can make sure they don't side  _against_ us. Just you alone, or was the agreement for a party?"

"I didn't ask, but I'm not going alone." I answered with a sigh. I leaned into my hands. "Varric is a must, because of Hawke. Blackwall, for sure. He may be able to help us with the Wardens…" I hesitated and I  _hated_ that I did because just like a cat with a mouse in her sights, Leliana's eyes narrowed on me.

"Something wrong?" Leliana intoned politely, her mouth small to hide her pleasure at weeding out a secret. "No one else to accompany you?"

"I  _hate_  that you phrased it that way." I pointed an accusing finger at her and the smirk across her face widened. "Don't you dare be smug, you witch — you have nothing on me."

"Oh, my darling Inquisitor." Leliana hummed, pleased at having caught me in my idiocy. "You may not always see  _me_ , but I am always watching." I glared at her, but the smirk remained on her face and I had the strongest vibes of  _Mike Wazowski_  hit me like a truck. I shuddered and clapped my hands once to rid the feeling from my bones. I fought to keep the words from my mouth, but I knew doing so only delayed what she already knew. Or suspected.  _Damnit._

"Maybe Bull." I muttered, defeated. "I don't know what we're walking into, so having a Wall is a good idea."

Leliana fought to keep her heels to the ground. "Of course, Inquisitor. Such as it is, he may need our assistance in the near future, so best to collect on favors now."

"What do you mean?" I glanced up with surprise. "Are we about to have issues with the Qunari?" That was the last fucking thing we needed. There had been no hints of an invasion, but perhaps the last incursion with Corypheus over Haven may have tipped their opinion of the Inquisition.  _Fuck, I hadn't thought of that. I'm going to have to make some mad dashes to build up a reputation again._

"Not quite. Bull hasn't said anything yet, but the missives we've been getting are hinting at a possible alliance." She struck me with a look of disinterest skepticism.

"You don't think that's the real offer." I caught on, folding my hands on the tabletop. "Are they looking to get in good with us, only to take us over?"

"Hmm." Leliana's mouth twisted, her arms coming forward to cross under her armored bosom. "The possibilities are endless. It could be the precursor to an invasion. It could be they plan to take Bull back, it could be they want more agents to spy on us… on and on it goes."

"So I can't trust it." My right hand brought my fingers up to pinch my brow. "Christ Almighty. That's going to be a mess. And Bull hasn't said anything yet?"

Leliana shrugged. "There has not been anything to confirm or deny, a shadow in the mists for now. I will keep you updated if that should change."

"Please do." I asked with a nod. "I guess… I'll have to have a chat with him first, and see what's going on.  _Fuck_ you, you planned this didn't you?" I had only barely caught the sly look of a scheme brushing across her face before the whole expression dropped into a neutral smile.

"Absolutely not." Leliana denied sweetly. "But considering that you're going to be a Reaver, who better to help you with that, than him?"

"How the  _fuck_  do you know that?" I asked, visibly alarmed. "I literally just decided that this morning. I left the scrolls on Josephine's desk  _today_."

"Jaime." Leliana shook her head, amused at my antics. "I  _know_  you. The secrets you keep may be deep, but everything else about you is an unbridled announcement. I —" Suddenly, hesitation took her voice and she eyed my face with a distant gaze. I remained still, waiting, watching as my Spymaster drug herself back from the memory she slipped over.

"Sometimes you are much like her." Leliana continued softly. "Divine Justinia. She was never — happy, per se, and she questioned much of what she did, but when she did something…" She cut herself off with a quick, warbled laugh and a shake of her head. There was a struggle as my mind wrestled with what to say.  _Do I ask about her? Would she tell me? Is it a touchy subject?_

It was the first I had heard of Justinia from Leliana, but I recognized the look on her face. Picking up pieces of a broken heart were hard.

"Well. Maybe she imparted some of herself into me when she shoved me through the Fade." I let slip the lame joke and stood from the table. Leliana gave me a reflexive smile and nod.

"Perhaps she did. I am… glad for it. I shall see to your requests, Inquisitor." Leliana straightened and switched back into her Spymaster formality. "Breaker Thram was last heard camping out close to Orlais. She should be here in two or three days time."

"Thank you, Leliana." The sensitive topic tumbled past us, quiet and ghostly. "I'll make one more round for today and then tomorrow morning I'll be making the march to Crestwood."

Leliana nodded. "I'll have the soldiers ready. We might as well make our presence known there as well."

"Aye, aye." I saluted her with two fingers touched to my forehead. She was quiet as I left her, the stairs echoed only with my retreating footsteps.

-0-

The tower remained empty as I left Leliana's area. The birds were impatient to be released and fed; I wasn't terribly tempted to stick around and get nipped at for being in the way. Down the stairs I went, following the stonework under my feet to the rotunda where I could hear the gentle clinks of pots and shuffling of feet. Hurriedly, I dashed down the last of the steps knowing that I would find Solas at the bottom.

"Holy fuck, dude!" I hissed at him, nearly fishtailing from my sliding drift as I ran past his table. He turned to me from his painting work on the wall, brow shot over his face with amusement. He set down his pot of paint and brush, wiping his clean hands on his pants reflexively.

"I wondered when you'd come to find me." He chuckled, shoulders shuddering with laughter. "What a marvelous experience to have with you, my friend. I see now why you needed so long an adjustment period."

"No shit, right?" I laughed, hands hanging from the back of my neck in excitement. "I almost thought for sure I was home… I mean — I don't know what I mean."

Solas softened his smirk to a smile. "I understand. Elated to think you've returned home… heartbroken to find it is only a memory. Real, but long since gone."

"Yeah," I sagged from my shoulders briefly, "I was… I thought I was crazy. That maybe… it was just a dream. I mean, it was a dream — to me — but now it's just a mess. How did you get there?"

"Usually when I take to sleep, I find myself in the Fade. Since I am here," Solas looked up to the ceiling and the surrounding stonework, "Skyhold yields many memories for me to explore. I am quite sure that the old magic residing here is what brought you into the Fade."

I held up my Marked hand. "You think because this changed, it changed my connection to the Fade, too?"

"I believe so." Solas led me to his table. He pushed away works and sketches that littered the surface. A chair was pulled up close and I took it as he walked around toward the other across the table. He tapped the surface of the table and obediently I placed my left arm upon it.

"I know Cole told me that it seems somewhat sentient now." I babbled, twisting my wrist. "It listens, he says. It'll only take what I ask it to take."

"In a sense, he is correct." Solas tugged his sleeves up slightly and held the back of my hand, the Mark facing up toward us. "Before, the Anchor had been a simple tool, pushed to capacity with magical essence in order to rip apart the heavens." His thumb pressed at one corner of my palm near the tear and the Mark's green glow fluttered from the touch.

"And now?" I prompted, my fingers twitching from the sensation.

"Corypheus has empowered you, much to his chagrin, I am sure." Solas placed his palm over mine and he focused his gaze on me. "Jaime, if you may —  _pull_." Sparked surprise shot through my muscles and I watched him for a second more, uncertain. Solas was undeterred, his expression firm and patient. My attention dropped to my hand and for a moment more, I stared.  _How?_

 _But wait._  I frowned as my fingers flattened.  _I had done it before… willingly._ The terror demons both in the Hinterlands and in Fallow Mire had come to blows with the Mark, and had been dispersed because of it, but only the Envy demon had suffered under the crosshairs of being an actual target. My hand was shaking under his palm, but I concentrated, staring at our hands.

 _Pull,_ I commanded, envisioning the tendrils that connected me to the Rifts whenever I closed them. The glow under Solas' palm brightened for a fraction of a second and then a spiraling heat drew into the opening of my palm, a swirling sensation that took the cold right from Solas' skin. Immediately, I yanked my hand back in alarm, nearly toppling myself out of my chair.

"Spectacular." Solas was smirking as he caught my wrist to keep me steady. "Corypheus has refocused the Anchor, given it a purpose without intending to."

"He turned it into a weapon?" I couldn't fathom the destruction I could cause. "Because he connected to the other Anchor  _he_  had?"

"Yes." Solas nodded, releasing my wrists and smoothing his palm over mine, his magic cooling the heat in my palm.  _A healing spell?_  "Corypheus had made the Anchor a blunt force, to blow open the heavens and return to the Fade by force. The power in the Mark was chaos, and ripped at everything it could reach."

I could vividly remember the ripping sensation I felt when Corypheus had attempted to take the Anchor from my body, holding me as a hanging prisoner with his own weapon of destruction in his other hand. When my limb was released, I drew it back from Solas and rubbed my thumb over the open scar, the glow of the Mark fading gently.

"What is it now?" I asked myself quietly. "In the cave… when the demons showed up I just — I was so  _done_  with everything, I thought I could just blow us up with the Mark, but…"

Solas leaned in against the table, intrigued. "But?"

"I saw it." I looked up to him, eyes wide. "I remember — I could see a ripple in the air. Not like a Rift, I could… I don't know if I could tell it was stable, but I thought I could tear it open…"

"And did you?" Solas prodded questioningly. "What happened, Jaime?"

"I reached up and it felt like running my hand through water." I answered without a thought, the memory hazy as my mind desperately fought to keep the trauma at bay. "I could feel the energy and decided, well, fuck it, you know?" Solas watched me, his gaze studious as it roamed over my face and then down to my hand. Thoughts flashed through his eyes, an endless sea of questions that flooded him.

"I do know." He said instead, his gaze unfocused. "I know that feeling, of thinking there isn't any other way. It allowed you to focus on what most others would normally ignore."

"What do you mean?" I asked. His mind had gone somewhere else, something coiled in his past that sprung forth with my explanation. He skipped my true question and latched onto another.

"You know the Veil exists. You also know that it separates the Fade from this reality." Solas ticked off with his fingertips tapping on the table. "What I need you to understand now is that the Fade is,  _truly_ , its own reality. It exists. The Veil only exists as a barrier, but it is unnatural."

"Wait, what?" I floundered with a double take catching my voice. "It's unnatur — are you saying that the Fade and this world used to exist  _together_?" Solas winced briefly and covered the expression with a thoughtful one, a sigh passing his lips as he stood from his chair.

"That part — pure speculation." He shook his head, moving to collect his sketches and avoiding my curious gaze. "But from my studies, the Veil hadn't always existed. This means to say that your Anchor, with its purpose now reinstated,  _is_  your gateway into the Fade. You can command it much the same, to allow what you want in…"

"And what I want, out." I followed along, leaning back in my chair.  _The implications… is that why Corypheus wanted it back? But what about the one he has? What was it supposed to do?_  "Solas. Then the second Anchor he had…?"

"A stabilizer." Solas tucked his sketches away into a bag behind his chair. "I deduce that the first attempt to breach the Fade failed because he only had the one, yours, and not the second one to act as a focal point to control the explosion."

"But if he has the second one, could others exist?" I snagged on the line of questions. "Or if he can't find any, could he still use the one in my hand? How much trouble are we looking at here?"

"I do not yet know, my friend." Solas sighed, resting against the back of his chair. "These items were rare and date back to the days of old where the People ruled —  _my_  People. How he found them, I am unsure."

My palms pressed together, poisoned fear burning my lungs. "... then I'm just going to have to make sure I'm his only option."

"Jaime?" Solas blinked, startled. "How… do you mean to use yourself as bait?"

"It's easier to face fears than to hide from them." I murmured with my fingers laced together and my forehead pressed against them. "And as long as he comes to me, I know where he's going to go. I won't lose him."

"Ah." Solas deflated, a sour look of sorrow pulling at his mouth. "You mean to use yourself as bait."

"As a trap." I answered, looking back up. "We're going to need to start setting it up now."


	15. ACT II: Wasted Warden Warnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime finds that the weather is the lest of their problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the season, and your patience, enjoy!

_You know. When Envy fabricated that memory of the Inquisition taking over a city, I didn't think it would be real._

It had taken us two weeks, even with horses and caravans, to get to Crestwood. Most of my personal crew had come with me, leaving Cole, Cassandra and The Hydra behind (Varric was avoiding the Seeker like the plague). Vivienne had taken up with directing the coordination between soldiers and supplies, Solas and Varric disappeared to find Hawke, and Sera stayed to man the bowmen and borders of our camp. Which left a Warden, a Qunari, and Tevinter mage.

_Bad joke incoming._

From there, it was another day or two to split up people and get scouting parties out and around to secure our entry. A snake's slither of tents was winding down through the main road into Crestwood as we figured out a battle plan. Inquisition forces mingled with the might of The Bull's Chargers, a brute force meant to clear out the worse of what Crestwood had to offer.

"So we have another infestation of dead to deal with, Harding?" I asked with my eyes shut against the rain. My dwarven scout was before me with the rain pattering off the metal of her armor. The Iron Bull stood at my back, not close enough to touch, but nearly close enough to feel his heat. Blackwall was off to my left side, and Dorian stood stiff at my right.

"I'm afraid so, Your Worship, and much worse." She agreed, shifting in the mud. A shiver of quiet laughter came up through me at the sound of a slow  _sluuurp!_  as her boot fought the soggy earth beneath it.

"What could be worse than an ill-timed family reunion?" Dorian piped up next to me, sinking a few inches into the mud by my side. I peeked in time to see a grimace flash across his face. Another set of footsteps reached us with Krem popping up next to Dorian and slipping next to Harding.

"A dead one." I quipped and snagged a laugh from him. I grinned into the rain and down at Harding, who resisted the urge to roll her eyes at us. My shoulders straightened and I cleared my throat, nodding with a silent  _continue_  on my lips.

"What's worse is that we have bandits  _and_  Wardens in the area." Harding added. "Caer Bronach houses at least fifty strong from what we've gathered, and the Wardens are just ghosts coming and going as they please."

"Are the Wardens doing anything to aide Crestwood with those bandits?" I asked, pushing my loose hair back from my face, the rain gluing it to my skin. Bull shifted carefully behind me, doing his best to keep from sinking into the earth. Blackwall accepted his fate readily and merely closed his eyes as his weight dipped briefly.

Krem shook his head, "No. We sent Skinner out with the forward party. She reports they've refused to help and only step in when there's immediate danger."

"... is immediate danger not the infestation of the living dead and bandits?" I asked my audience with confusion. Dorian gave a delicate snort next to me and Blackwall sighed heavily at my left. I turned to my Warden, seeking answers. He sensed my attention and his mouth winced under his beard.

"I don't know what orders they could be following that would have them  _actively_  ignore civilians in need. That's not how we're supposed to work." He answered darkly, glaring at me under his heavy brow. "Trust me, I am just as confused as you are, Inquisitor."

My attention snapped to Krem, "Where is Skinner now?"

"She came back at dusk. The forward party is still out scouting." Krem replied, Harding's nod adding to his report. "Do you need her to be sent back out? She'll find the Wardens quick enough."

"No, have her stay home." I shook my head and tapped under my chin with my knuckles in thought,  _what's going on? Why aren't the Wardens helping?_  "Krem, have the Chargers geared up and ready for a march."

"Aye, Your Worship." Krem nodded with a salute before he trudged off back toward the camping area for the forces. A silence settled over my group, the rain continued to bounce off our bodies as the rest of them waited for me.  _Something is going on, if they're still here, they haven't found Stroud, or Hawke is making it hard to do so._

I glanced off into the distance. Beyond the fog and dense rain stood a fort, waiting in the darkness.  _If I can't deal with the lake and the dead coming from it, we're going to need a base here._ My gaze turned toward the hills.  _But setting up a base is no good if there's no villagers to protect or merchants to buy supplies._

"Harding." I shifted slightly to face her, my scout perked at her name. "Have another party scout the fort. Give me all the ins and outs. Make sure Krem gets them, set up a battle plan." Harding's eyebrows rose sharply, but a smirk touched her lips as she saluted.

"Aye, Your Worship. We'll have it ready when you come back." Harding glanced off to the side, toward the lake that fenced off the rest of Crestwood. "... what are you going to do about that?" A sigh escaped me as I made my way toward the edge of the cliff, the vicious green glow of a rift hovered over the water, sparking and electrifying the waters around it, gurgling with every spurt of energy.

"Anyone got a working boat?" I grumbled with my hands on my hips.

"Not with anyone willing to row your ass out there." Bull replied, stepping closer to the edge than I dared. He snorted, the steam flowing from his nose in wisps. "We'll have to find another way."

"The Mayor may know something." Blackwall suggested, keeping a healthy distance from the ledge. "We should find him and ask."

"Agreed." I nodded and turned to Dorian. "Alright, dandelion, ready to go?"

Dorian flashed me a winning smile, "Pet names already? My, you do move quick. Lead on, Inquisitor, I will have the immense pleasure of covering your rear."

"Fucking right, you will." I laughed and shouldered my maul into its holster. With a salute to Harding, we three strapped up our boots against the inhaling and grasping mud. A very sour and dower Blackwall followed up on my left, and Bull took a hefty step to come up nearly to my ass, forcing Dorian to my right.

The mage shot Bull a smug smirk over my shoulder and I raised an eyebrow at him;  _the hell are you nutballs doing?_ Children, honestly. Well, I suspected that no one was going to be pleased with my decision to bring the newbie, least of all because he was not only a mage, but a  _Tevinter_  mage.  _Well, y'all are going to have to get along as far as I'm concerned._

"Boss." Bull called from over my head. "Shouldn't we be bringing a bit more of the guys with us?"

"Aye." Blackwall grumbled from my right.

"Uh. No?" I asked, confused. My gaze shot over my shoulder to the Qunari. "It's better if they wait for us at the tents. Varric left with Solas to go find Hawke and Sera stays with the bowmen since Varric is gone." The unsaid ' _did you want Vivienne instead of Dorian with us'_  went cold amongst my group. Bull snorted again, quiet and obedient.

I frowned;  _that was weird._

The path wound away from our people and passed the lake's shore nearby. There the water lapped up against the gravel, licking at the broken boats and cracked decking of the small dock. Thunder gave a dull roar overhead, rolling over our heads and shoulders with a passing rumble. The rain came down on us with a steady pattern, keeping us soggy as we trekked up through the East Side Hills.

"What's that?" Dorian pulled up next to me, his staff hidden at his side. Peering through the rain, there were two figures kneeling by the stone fencing of the path, huddle around a third figure. Eyes narrowed and shoulders tense, we wandered closer.

"Wardens." Blackwall warned me quietly. "Their armor gives them away."

"Here for Hawke or his friend, most likely." Dorian murmured in reply. "Shall we distract them?"

"Let's." I answered with a nod. We made our way up toward the group, Bull changing his pace to make his footfalls louder, the rocks crunched together and scraped under his boots as we drew closer. The Wardens' heads shot up at our approach, their hands on their pommels. Dorian drew behind us, careful to keep his staff hidden, Blackwall and Bull remained close to me at the ready if needed.

"Hail there, Wardens." I called through the rain. "Fancy seeing you lot here."

"The same could be said for you, Inquisition." One of them replied, pulling out quick in front of their partner and the third person. Spying around them, it looked to be a young elf, huddled over a knee, holding it tight.  _Hurt? Keep it civil until we can get to them. Don't know if these Wardens are enemies yet._

"The Inquisition does its best to answer any calls for help." I kept my voice firm, the rain dripping down against my lips and chin. "Last I heard, the Wardens had disappeared, so imagine our surprise to find them here." Both Wardens hesitated, the young elf behind them had been brought to their feet and shooed away.  _Black hair, copper vest, green tunic, green leggings_ , my mind jotted down the information to find the young elf later.

"We're here on official orders." The closest one answered, voice deep against the metal helmet they wore. "A Warden named Stroud is wanted for questioning." The second Warden shot the first one a sharp look, their hooded face pinched tight with concern before they looked back to us.

"Oh?" My innocence answered. "I thought Wardens were accustomed to working independently?"

"In most cases. In others, we do answer to a higher authority." The first Warden answered, helmet tilted toward me. "We heard he'd passed through here, but the villagers knew nothing. They have troubles enough."

"I imagine so." I answered, and then pointed to the shambles of a decapitated zombie behind them. "What with the dead coming back to haunt them." Shame touched their shoulders, dripping them under their cloaks for a brief moment.  _That must have been what they saved the elf from, I can see limbs scattered in the grass._

"It is curious," the second one stepped closer, hood heavy under the rain, "that the Inquisition shows up not long after those rumors come through."

"Coincidence." I shot back, lacing my words with boredom.  _I'm getting better at this._ "Your rogue Warden may have shown up because he still has some sense of justice for people weaker than he." The jab hit true and they both stepped back, shoulders drawn tight to their spines.  _Fuck you, you don't get to insinuate shit without a smack back, asshole._

"Our apologies." The first one bowed their head. "We meant no insult. It's been a desperate search for him. If you would happen to know anything…?"

"What could you tell me about him? I couldn't tell one Warden from the next." I answered readily, deflecting the prod for information.

"Not much." The second shook his head. "Warden-Commander Clarel ordered his capture. We can say no more than that." I shrugged under my oil-slick armor, the water rolling from my leathers and coat with heavy droplets.  _You've given me enough._

"I hope Ser Stroud comes with us peacefully." The first Warden murmured pointedly. "I trained under him for a time. He's a good man, I'm sure of that." Remorse colored their words and they shifted under their armor.  _Shame, maybe? It's gotta be tough hunting down your mentor._ Vividly, Dorian's presence behind us gave my Mark a sharp stab.  _Ah, he_ is  _listening._

"I take it that means you won't be staying to fight the undead here?" I replied softly. I felt for them, because turning on someone you respected wasn't easy (my memories with Leliana were harsh reminders of that).  _That doesn't excuse you going through a battlezone and not assisting when it's your job to do so._

The second one shook their head again, "No. Our orders forbid it. Crestwood was only a detour."

"Is that all the aid we can offer these people?" The first one turned to their partner. The second was firm and shook their head once, silent. The first one turned their helmet to us, their voice pleading, "If the Inquisition can help, I beg you to do what you can. The villagers have already lost too many."

"Safe travels, Wardens." I said after a pause, stepping out of the path to let them pass. Both of them cast looks over my group as they trailed away, relaxing once they were out of earshot. My group huddled around me, curious gazes focused on the retreating Wardens' backs.

"Good job, Boss." Bull tipped his head, grinning. "We know a bit more now than before."

"Do we?" Blackwall asked, skeptical. "We already knew Stroud was being hunted."

"They want him alive." Dorian answered, leaning close to my right side, arms folded against his chest, skin slick with rain. " _Capture_  is very different from  _hunt to kill._  I wonder why."

"Information." My voice echoed with Bull's as we answered. I shot him an amused look and he grinned at me with a shake of his horns. I sighed, "Stroud may have taken something from them, or knows something they don't. They need him alive."

"One Warden is hard to find." Blackwall countered, his hand scratching at his beard. "If the villagers haven't seen him, I can't imagine the tricks he's pulling to cover his tracks."

"We'll find him." I answered, brushing my hair behind my ears. "I have Varric, which means I also have a very useful hawk on loan." Bull chuckled and lightly jabbed my side. Affectionately, I smacked his fingers away with a reflexive swing of my palm, missing as he pulled away, and turned back toward the road.

"Besides," Bull interjected as he followed behind me, "none of those Wardens mentioned a new leader. They may not be a part of Corypheus' plot to seize The Order."

"I don't think so, either." I replied over my shoulder, watching the rocks under my feet. "The infiltration in their ranks may be subtle. We'll need to keep our eyes open." We trudged through the rain, my head hung low against my neck and clavicle with the water pouring down my neck and into my clothes.  _No avoiding it. This is almost worse than the Storm Coast._

"There's a home." Blackwall called out. We looked up and found a small cabin home coming up from the ground. Grass and foliage smothered it, the vines gripped the roof and woodwork with tangled fingers and with the rain, it appeared to do its best to level the cabin back into the ground. Careful, I scurried up toward the door and knocked. My armor shook as I spooked when the door flew open immediately.

"Inquisition!" It was the elf, bright eyed and dripping wet despite being inside. "You did come!"

"We did?" I answered, utterly blindsided. "We were expected, but I — I'm sorry, who are you?"

"Jana!" A grin flashed over their soft face. I leaned back on the steps slightly, bowed by the enthusiasm.  _She matches the description,_ black hair, green tunic, copper vest, all of it. She pulled her hair back and squeezed it, watering draining down her arms.

"Good morning, then, Jana." I gave her a brief nod. "Would you mind if my friends and I came in for a chat?" I hadn't even finished my sentence before the door swung open the rest of the way and she stepped back to allow us entry. With a grateful nod, my crew and I stumbled in from the rain. Bull was the last, ducking sideways to keep his horns from clipping the doorframe.

"This is exciting." Jana burst once the door was shut. "Did you see how the Grey Wardens saved me from those corpses? They're amazing!"

My brow rose. "I hadn't seen it, actually. It's why I wanted to find you, to check on you."

"Oh!" A flush broke out over her face and reached her ears, the grin now shy. "You didn't need to, but I appreciate the fuss."

"Of course," I smiled with a nod, but it slipped from my lips a moment later. "Jana, could I ask — what were you doing out so close to the water?"

"Looking for the Grey Wardens." Jana was a quick shot, a quiet exhale of embarrassment left her. "I was going to see if they were looking for recruits, but then…"

"The dead can take anyone unawares, darling." Dorian soothed. "Show up when we least expect them." Concerned at the wording, I shot him a twisted side-glare of  _what the fuck is that about?_ but the mage ignored it in favor of the elf.

"I suppose so, but it didn't set a very good impression, I'm afraid." Jana chuckled and nervously tugged at the tips of her fingers. "They told me they hadn't the time."

"Nonsense." Blackwall groused from the back, closer to the entrance. "The Grey Wardens are a noble cause. They would be happy to take anyone willing to serve." At that, Bull graced me with a quick, skeptical look and with a quiet tip of my chin, I agreed:  _maybe now isn't the right time._

Instead to Jana I said, "The world needs people like you, Jana. You could focus on what you can do for your people here, instead." The elf contemplated my words for all of a second before the smile on her face told me I hadn't convinced her.

"Perhaps, but the Wardens are  _heroes_. They saved me from those demons, Your Worship." She paused, her hands slowing from their nervous twitching. "With all that's happening, I'd like to help people the same way."

"Grey Warden or no, the world needs that courage." Blackwall murmured from the back. I sighed, realizing I wasn't going to win this fight on two fronts.  _Joining the Wardens now could be a disaster, since we don't know what's going on with them. I don't want to add to their flock._ We left Jana to her contemplation and planning. Worry gnawed at my neck, but there was nothing I could do to stop her.

The Village of Crestwood wasn't far from Jana's cabin. The path cut between a few dilapidated homes and broken walls. Old cabins and storage sheds leaned into the mud, shattered fencing groaned with the thunder and swayed against the rain. The world was bleak and the demons and dead could walk freely in the fog of its depression.

"Shamblers." Bull cautioned. "Up there, by the main gate. I see guards, too."

"Hi-ho, then, boys." I replied, slipping my maul from its holster. It felt like  _ages_  since I had last held the weapon in my hands. The handle was slick with rain, but the leather at the head of the maul and at the pommel gave me grip, the weight felt like a reassurance in my palms. It was alarming, almost, how much I missed the feel of it and the adrenaline that burst in my veins from the sensation.

The first shambler never turned quick enough to see me coming. With no archers in my current crew, speed was key. Bull kept pace behind me with Blackwall at his right flank. Dorian watched us go, his staff whirling in his grip. I slammed into the first one, the stretched skin and crumbling bones cracked and splintered under my weapon. Bull's came down next from overhead, driving through the ribcage of the next one. A Sloth crept up from the grass, hissing as it rose up and lunged for Blackwall. The Warden's shield brandished in front of him, prepared for the blow.

Dorian wasn't Solas, there was no barrier that dropped over our heads, but the shambler I didn't take down with my first swing glowed purple and blue, its sockets flashed white for a moment before its attention turned from me with a screech, the bow and arrow in its grip rose and released, stunning the Sloth before it reached Blackwall.

"What in the fucking Jesus!" I shouted, leaping away from the shambler as it raised its bow again to take another potshot at the Sloth. Blackwall shuddered with a hard restart, catching his bearings quick enough to shield bash the Sloth into the line of fire. Bull growled and circled around, blocking my sight of Dorian and keeping himself planted between the Sloth and shambler.

"Sorry, dove!" Dorian hollered from somewhere in the downpour. Another spell howled past us, behind my back and caught an approaching demon up through its maw. The Rage demon roared, scraping its claws at its mangled mouth, howling from pain as its face contorted, its body turning purple.

I raised my maul to catch it in a swing, but its limbs dropped, the fire of its rage dampened and cooled before blackening in the rain. A loud, alarming growl rumbled up behind me as Bull twisted around, his arm in full release and the maul swinging with its weight onto the creature's head. The skull split with a wet sounding kiss from the maul, the flaming essence sputtering as it struggled to regain control before it popped into the air.

My body froze, stunned.  _The fucking hell was that!_ The guards had been given the advantage with two less to deal with and pressed forward, their swords singing through the rain as they cut down the zombies closest to them. I lunged off of Bull, my hand at his hip to leverage myself into a toss to clear a leap next to another skeleton. My maul came up from the ground in an underhanded swing and took the legs out from it.

"Overhead!" Dorian shouted.  _No sense in looking up!_  With a shove of my heels into the ground, I drove into a roll as a handful of arrows speared the earth. Bull stormed past me, his body rolling into a twist, both hands on his maul as he crashed into the pack of archers. Blackwall had backed up with the guards, fending off another Rage that had come close.

Dorian came up to me, his hand held out to assist. Hesitation held me in place for half a second before I took his hand and he brought me up to my feet. The smirk I was growing familiar with was firm on his lips, but there was a twitch of concern around his eyes.

"That's not normal, even for magic." I muttered to him, keeping my voice low as the noise of battle died out behind me. Blackwall and Bull could handle the situation as it was, but I needed to come to grips with this new surprise.  _Is that necromancy? Raising the dead should not be that easy. Where did he get magic like that?_

"No, I don't suppose it is. No one thinks to use the dead when there's so many around us." He said it candidly, though the lowly tint of defensiveness flavored his words. A moment paused between us and we stood together, assessing the other.  _The dead should stay dead,_ I wanted to say. The idea that he could control them unnerved me to my core.

 _But what do I know of magic?_ It was something I would have to deal with eventually, and that  _eventually_  would have to be Skyhold.

"Does it only work on the dead?" I asked carefully, my voice gently quiet. Dorian eyed me heavily in an attempt to deduce my line of logic.

"Yes." He finally answered, relaxing in my gaze. "I haven't quite learned to make the living obey, but who can?" The Mark warmed in my palm, the unrelenting relief echoed through me and I smiled at the feeling.  _He was scared. How cute._

"For now, let's keep it that way." I sighed, rubbing at my temple. "Thank you for being honest."

"You don't know that I was." Dorian countered happily. I paused, surprised.  _Does he not know…? No. Of course he doesn't, why would he? He doesn't know the Mark gives me that kind of insight._ A gentle, mischievous smile touched my lips.

"Dandelion." I clued him in and placed my Marked hand on his arm. "I absolutely know." I took the small satisfaction of watching his eyes grow wide and flicker down to his arm, watching the Mark glow against his skin before I let go. Bull and Blackwall hadn't approached and when I turned to find out why, I spotted them both with their arms crossed and scowling at us.

"Lord hallelujah, isn't that a sight?" I grumped, scratching at my forehead. Dorian snorted with laughter.  _If it wasn't any other situation, I would have been extremely pleased with the sight, but a pair of pissed off warriors is not a good deal for me._

"I am in full agreement, my darling. Look at those scowling faces. Rippling muscles." He teased gracefully, nudging my shoulder. My eyes rolled with a quiet chuckle and I started my way on over. Qunari and Warden had their eyes pinned to Dorian, but the man in question dignified them with a high brow and stiff upper lip.

"I'm gonna say it now, and I'm gonna say it once," I told my group, mindful of the worried guards not far from us, "all comments, questions, or concerns about any magic usage during this trip will wait until Skyhold."

"Boss —" Bull started in. I raised my hand and placed it on his chest, as if my strength was enough to hold him back. He stared at me, his one eye dark with distrust and the corner of it twitched before he rumbled with a quiet snort, glaring at Dorian before relaxing into disinterest.

"Dear me, you are far more obedient a Tal-Vashoth than I thought." Dorian joked lightly from behind me, clearing his staff over his shoulder and latching it into its holster. Bull tensed under my hand for no more than a split second, his muscles quivering before he relaxed again.

"Do not push it,  _Vint_." Bull growled lowly. "As long as she likes you, I  _tolerate_  you. Hear?"

"Heard." Dorian grinned, immensely pleased. "Pity for you I've swept her off her feet, isn't it?"

"Gentlemen." I clapped my hands, drawing attention to myself. "Civility, please, or I send you all home.  _All_ of you."

"Why me?" Blackwall croaked just beside Bull, standing partially in the Qunari's shadow with his arms crossed behind his shield.

"Because you're certainly not  _stopping_  them, are you?" I griped. A sigh ripped up my throat and I waved them off my back as I walked away toward the guards.  _Honestly, if I thought y'all were gonna be fucking childish about this, I would have just come out myself._


	16. ACT II: The Cursed Be Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime knows anything is a weapon if you try hard enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... and the last before (my) new year comes along. I hope these keep you warm!
> 
> Guys, please check out Costumebleh on Tumblr, they made this fic its first fanart!
> 
> http://costumebleh.tumblr.com/post/181559715981/my-grip-snagged-the-wisps-and-with-all-the

"There is so much shit going wrong in this town." Bull grumbled next to me. My crew and I stood huddled at the center of town just before the stairs that led up toward the Mayor's house. Meeting Jana had only been a mild precursor to the mess that we were to step into with the rest of the village. We had spent the better part of two hours snagging villagers to investigate the issues we had seen, only to be pointed back toward the mayor's house.

"Dead coming back, no merchants, no couriers." Blackwall added, his gaze on the townspeople that wandered past us with their meager things. Crops were low according to one villager, the water was going bad with all the runoff from the rains said another, and the bandits were taking the last bit of anything edible as payment for leaving them alone. The dead were rising because no one had put them to rest, said the Sister.

_What a mess._

"Not to mention this terrible weather." Dorian pushed the tips of his hair from his face and then reached over and pushed the wet wisps of my hair away from my eyes as well, my head craned back with the gentle touch. "Look at her, only here half a week and she's waterlogged and dreadful."

"Bite me, flower pot." I shook out my head like a dog, letting the hair splatter around my cheeks and ears. He laughed as I did so and my attention focused on my other companions. "This is not going to be an easy fix, y'all."

"If we can fix it at all." Blackwall countered, using his shield as a stand. "Harding mentioned the fortress holding fifty, but I have no doubts that beyond and further we'll find more."

Bull nodded, "They've set up a patrol and choke point. Nothing gets in or out without them knowing and taxing it." There was a small sigh that slipped through me,  _they've only left us alone in the hopes that if they don't disturb the hornet's nest, we won't come to hunt them._

"So what do you suggest we do? I know we gotta talk to the mayor, but after?" I asked with a glance between them. The villagers had no care for what we were doing in their home, there weren't enough of them to boot us out, and too few for us to concern ourselves with being spied upon.

"If we're going to deal with everything, then I suggest a list." Dorian clapped his hands once and glanced between us. "I have limited battle expertise, but usually handling the biggest thing first frees up quite a bit of time."

"That's not a bad plan." I agreed with a hand to my neck. "I need to get to the lake, I have no doubt in my mind that the rift is causing the dead to rise, I think tackling that would be easier with a fortress to use."

"Agreed." Bull and Blackwall chimed in. Bull took the lead with a glance between me and the mayor's house. "Best to let the mayor know what's happening, in case any spare bandits from inland decide to retaliate."

"Can't have them holding the village hostage if we take the fortress." Blackwall huffed. "It would defeat the purpose of taking the fort."

"Yeah, I can agree with that." I rubbed my hand against my neck for a moment before letting it drop with a sigh. "Onward, then. Let's see if the mayor has any insight on that dam." We trudged on through the mud and stones. The stairs were slick with the rain and as I led them up the flight of steps, Bull's fist came to rest on my spine to keep me from slipping back. The gesture brought a small smile to my face.

Giant statues of celtic-style wolves breached the top of the stairs, howling silently at the sky. Lightning flashed over our heads and the thunder followed not long after.  _The storm might be tied to the rift in the lake, it would make sense why it was so close and so constant._  I wandered over to the main house once the ground leveled out, a sign dripping next to the door with faded carvings titling the cabin as ' _The Mayor's House._ ' My knuckles reached the door first and rapped a rhythem swiftly for entry.

A spare few moments passed before the door swung open. The mayor, a man touching the end of his forties into his fifties, stood in front of us. Graying hair damp against his skull with clothes moist from the weather. He grimaced at the sight of us, but turned back from the doorway to allow us inside. The floor was relatively dry, like the rest of the home, the fireplace blazed loudly to the right, the living space warmed by its life.

_Do not shake the water off, mongrel._

"Inquisition, please, make yourself comfortable." The mayor waved us to the seats near a small table close to the fireplace. I glanced at my men and with a glance at each other, there was a collective agreement to remain standing.  _Oh alright, fine._ I would stay with them, the thought of being caught off my feet wasn't a comfortable one.

"Thank you, Mayor." I answered instead. "Normally I would ask about the weather or some other small talk, but it seems a moot point." The man blinked in surprise, but a small laugh still sputtered up from his chest, his shoulders relaxing a mere fraction.

"Ah, quite. It's… well, we've never wanted for rain since it started, I assure you." He glanced at the door as thunder answered his jest. A second passed before he returned to me, "Tell me, Your Worship, is there any way to stop the dead for rising?" A curveball of a question shot my way.  _Right, starting with the biggest, hardest things first._

"I have a pretty solid theory that the undead are appearing because of a rift in the Fade." I replied readily, shifting in my armor. "The Fade is strongest where the most vivid or violent memories exist. If I can get to it, I can stop this." The mayor's gaze shot down to his feet for a moment as his teeth worried at his mouth. The moment was swift and he turned up to me, thoughtful.

Bull frowned for a second just at the corner of my eyes. My attention sharpened on the mayor.

"The light at the lake?" The mayor pondered the question. "It's coming from the caves below Old Crestwood, then. Darkspawn flooded it ten years ago during the Blight. It wiped out the village, killing refugees we took in." My eyes shut tightly at his words, pain blooming in my chest.  _That's what they were talking about, the missing people and missing bodies for burial._

_Fuck me._

"I saw a dam." I came back into the conversation, my eyes hard on the mayor. "If we use it to drain the lake, I can get to that Fade rift."

"Drain the —" He stopped short, choking with his eyes blown wide. "There must be some other way!" I paused and watched him, confused with the sudden refute.  _Is there something on the other side of the dam that we don't know about? People? Supplies?_

"We're trying to help." Blackwall replied with a dark frown on his face. "The Inquisitor is the only one who can close the rifts." To play on his words, my left hand rose from my side and I tugged my glove off, letting the Mark glow brightly in the dim cabin. The mayor's gaze flashed to my hand and then to me, the fear crawling over his face. I slipped my glove back on with my narrowed gaze on the mayor,  _what… are you hiding?_

"You'd — you'd have to evict the bandits in the old fort to use the dam." The mayor fumbled his words and brought his hands together, his fingers twisting. "I can't ask you to risk your life." I opened my mouth for a second, a quick retort of  _do you realize who I am?_ on my lips before I stopped hard.

That was  _exactly_ the kind of thinking and attitude I had  _never_  wanted to get sucked into. Taking a moment, I inhaled deeply and held my breath, letting the words form on the back of my tongue.

"Mayor." I started.

"Gregory, please." He stuttered, hands flat together at the palms. "Gregory Dedrick."

"Mayor Gregory," I corrected with a gentle voice, "Crestwood can't last much longer. I don't want to leave without doing what I can." Blackwall smirked just off to my other side. Bull nodded his head, following my lead. Dorian was shuffling something behind me, aware of the drama and watching it unfold.

"I…" He hesitated, his gaze bouncing between us. He sighed heavily. "I suppose it must come to this." The mayor stepped around me and avoided Bull as he made his way over to the other side of the cabin. The other end held together a work area and a bedroom separated by a single wall. At the shelf lined with sagging books, he reached up to the highest level and fiddled around in search of something.

"I have a key that unlocks the gate to the dam controls past the fort, the bandits had taken the place from Robert, our old gamekeeper." He found it and dragged it off the shelf, palming it for a moment with his gaze lingering on the length of it. I held out my hand to prompt him and he released it into my palm. "The rift must be in the caves, as I said."

"Thank you, Mayor Gregory." I bowed my head briefly. "We'll do our best to make sure your people don't continue to suffer."

"Please, do." He replied sadly, his gaze distant. "But Inquisitor… I would not linger there."

-0-

"So how does one uproot a parasite?" Dorian asked me lightly from my right side, trotting with me through the mud. We had left the mayor in haste knowing that our course of action would take us back to the fort to clear it of its so called  _parasites_.

"Usually with finesse, but I don't care much for delicacy." I answered, extremely grumpy at tripping over a rock I had mistaken for a pile of mud. It was unnerving how steadily and unrelentingly the rain came down from the heavens.

"We'll have to find a way in, the doors will be reinforced." Blackwall grumbled from behind, bringing up the rear and covering our exit from Crestwood. No more Wardens appeared and the highwaymen were suspiciously absent despite our tromping through half the village and over the main roads.

"The mayor said they killed the old gamekeeper in the fort and took up residence in it when the dead first showed up." Bull murmured off to my left, watching the road ahead of us as I had to watch my damn feet below me. "Means they knew about it beforehand, at least, and they know to cover the roads."

"We'll see what Harding has to say." I straightened my walk once we were back on the solid, compacted earth that was the main road. "Maybe the scouts have found a way in for us."

"We could be choked if it's too small, Boss." Bull advised with a wary eye down to me. "We need an entrance big enough to shove our boys through, or we'll be picked off."

"Not if you're quiet." Dorian replied with a look over my head at Bull. "You could send in a mage or two, have them blanket the area."

"Too risky." Blackwall countered with a shake of his head. "They could be overpowered. There's no guarantee there aren't former Templars in their ranks."

"Fuck," I swore hotly, "I didn't even think about that. I just assumed they were normal bandits."

"Banditry is easy to turn to when you don't have another source of income." Bull lectured quietly. "They could have mages, too. It's what the Chargers were built for, we need to hit them hard and fast." The ping-pong match had subsided into the chatter of the rain dropping around us. My hands came up to rub the cold from my face, the tip of my nose was iced through.

_I need to know what Harding found,_ my ears were rubbed next, hair wrapped around them in tangles,  _I don't want to go in there blind._ The Inquisition camp came upon us soon enough, the torchlights burning bright green from Vivienne's veilfire.  _Probably the only thing to survive this fucking weather._ Harding and Krem were seated close to the requisitions table, their heads bowed together under an oilcloth to keep out of the rain. A map was in Krem's lap.

I let out a whistle to alert them. The soldiers closest and within earshot stood at attention and waited until I dismissed them with an impatient wave of my hand. Harding and Krem stood up with the lieutenant keeping the oilcloth up over his head, extending his arm out to cover Harding. I choked on swallowed snickers at the sight.

"I'm seriously hoping you guys have good news for me, because I have fuck all." I told them once we were huddled together. Krem struggled for a moment, wondering what to do with the oilcloth before settling into a defeated stance and kept it over Harding's head. My little scout looked extremely amused and fought a smile from her mouth.  _Brats._

"Good news and bad news, I'm afraid." Harding answered readily. "Good news? We take the fort, we'll get to the dam."

"Bad news is the only way into the fortress is through the front door, short of using siege weapons." Krem continued with a sigh. "We found an entrance along the shore that looks like it comes up through the cellar of the fortress, but without knowing for certain…" He shrugged under the oilcloth as his voice trailed off.

"It could be trouble, yeah." I ran my hand over my head, fingers snagging in my hair. "Alright. I need the Chargers ready, we're going to have you up front as shock-troops. Have Rocky ready some explosives."

"Boss?" Bull blinked down at me in surprise.

I flashed him a grin. "Reinforced doors, right? Who says we can't do this with a bang?" The look of awe that came over the Qunari's face shifted quickly into one of feral humor and he shook out his head, shoulders tensed up with excitement.

"Do as she says, have Skinner shadow him to keep any bandits off until he's finished." Bull ordered. Krem nodded and without much adieu, gently dropped the oilcloth onto Harding's head and dodged out before she could retaliate. Blackwall and I reached forward to bring it off her, but the scout remained resolute under the cover.

"Alive?" I asked.

"Yes." She glared.

I did laugh this time.

It took minimal time to set up. Vivienne had been ordered to stay with Sera and whatever troops we didn't take with all of them to head to Crestwood proper and hold up against retaliation. Solas and Varric hadn't yet returned from their hunt for Hawke, and though it was worrisome, I had to trust they were alive.  _I've already got a bit too much on my plate._

Delegation was key.

To avoid alerting the bandits too quickly of our arrival, we waited until the dead of night. Blessed and cursed with a new moon that left us blinded in the dark, the raining cascading as it ever was over our heads, and the dead stillness of absent wind, we would have the perfect cover and the worst fighting conditions all at once. The Inquisition forces had snuck around the fortress an hour or two after the sun had set and ambient light was snuffed from the sky. Skinner and a few of my scouts had subdued the patrols. Rocky had his hand ready on the detonator with the explosives sitting at the mouth of the entrance.

"They've got to know we're coming." Dorian whispered from beside me. I sat huddled in the tall brush with the crew; Blackwall and Dorian stood to either side of me, with Bull guarding the front, hunched and prepared to launch through the entrance at first signal with my hand resting at the middle of his back.

"Of course they do." Blackwall replied lowly, glancing around me to Dorian. "Both parties are well aware of what's about to happen, the deciding factor here is who's better prepared."

" _We_  are." I answered and reached out with my other hand to scoot him back. My gaze found Rocky and I held up my full hand,  _let's get ready to rumble!_  Bull trembled under my other hand, his muscles tense and coiled with anticipation.

Pinky went down first, Rocky bunkered into the boulders and grinned at the door. The Inquisition forces had saddled up against the walls of the fortress, leaning into the shadows and letting the rain bounce off their heads and chests.

Ring finger brought Krem slithering through the Inquisition soldiers that lined the left side of the entrance, pulling a few of them back from the blast radius. His tower shield went up and he ducked behind it, another soldier on the opposite side doing the same.

Middle finger and my crew started to quiver in their places from excitement, resting on a hair-trigger.

Index finger remained, Dalish fade-shifted through the troops, dropping barriers over their heads in the last final seconds, the soldiers glowed a purplish-blue hue and shimmered in the rain. It was mere seconds that we stood there.

My thumb was the last, and with it coming down, I smacked Bull's back as Rocky's explosives thundered through the air and ripped into the mouth of the fortress, the shockwave beat into the tower shields before careening into us. I huddled behind the bulk of The Iron Bull and his heels caught the ground to brace against the blast before pitching himself forward. Like clockwork, the Qunari sprung from his place and crashed through the brittle wood of the massive doors, the soldiers flowed in from behind.

Archers lined the first defense from the roof of stables inside the fortress. Their swordsmen were hunched on the wings of the door like the Inquisition had done and jumped to snare the first few that came through. We had known that, we were  _prepared_  for that, as Bull roared through and brought his maul through with a devastating swing, slamming the head on either side with reckless strength.

Krem was accustomed to his commander and slipped through in between swings and brought his sword through the legs of the closest unfortunate soul. Dalish flashed off to the other side and with a twirl of her staff, a sea of fire burst from her feet and snarled over the earth. The rain did nothing to deter the hellfire, the flames rose like grasping fingers and began to melt the metal of the bandits' armor.

It rooted them in place for the rest of us. Blackwall dodged forward once Bull had shifted further through the entry way. Blackwall shield bashed two approaching highwaymen and his hatchet hissed through the air and caught one of them with a bite of steel into the clavicle. Inquisition soldiers flooded in behind us, their shields up to keep the arrows at bay, a solid wall marched across the courtyard, shoving the bandits back into the fortress.

"Bull!" I commanded. The Qunari dragged his maul through the muddy earth, flinging it at any bandit that approached and turned on his heel at the sound of my voice. Without sparing me a glance, he took two or three hefty lunges toward me, slotting neatly at one-third of my vision and becoming my shield.

"Dalish, shatter!" Bull hollered. A scream of ice spiked through the ground and shook under the feet of the bandits and ensnared the howling armored mabaris that rocketed our way. I swerved around Bull with my back to his, using his momentum to bring my maul into a crashing swing on the head of the nearest animal. The ice had eaten up to its ears and crystalised the poor creature, leaving it open to my swing. The other was too far for either of us to reach, but Blackwall had seen the chaos and sped up to the next one.

Dorian's black-purple streams of magic moaned past us over our heads and soon the highwaymen we had disposed of were clattering back to their feet. Charred and decapitated bodies rose and wobbled on their broken knees before lifting swords and shields, turning toward their once brothers-in-arms.

"Push past them! Don't attack the dead!" I screamed, noticing a few of the Inquisition had hesitated at the sight of the raised bodies. Once more I was behind Bull and shoved my shoulder into his back, prompting him to move. He did so, thundering through the flailing bandits to get me to the stairs. Blackwall came up behind us and covered my end with his shield. Dorian couldn't be found and Dalish was a mist to the rain. Krem commanded the courtyard with his own barking commands, keeping the Inquisition forces focused on holding ground against any who tried to escape.

Up the stairs we flew. Skinner and Grim had come up along the side of the stairs, the nimble elf had launched herself with a foot to Grim's back and then his shoulders, sailing past us like a ghost on the railing and deeper into the fortress. Grim parkoured off a few crates and jumped ahead of us on the stairs, following close behind her. Bull and I weren't far off and had an easier time of it when no bandits came out toward us.

We reached the entryway into the second courtyard on the next level with Grim caught at the door by a tower shield. Bull marched up behind his man and with one nasty palm thrust, shoved the tower shield back and tumbling. Grim and I slipped through with a shared look. Grim nodded and bolted away, leaving the highwayman to me on the ground. My maul came up from over my head with a two-handed swing and hammered into their neck. The armor whined as it bent inward and blood spurt from the impact for a second or so before it drained into the ground.

Bull's shadow came back up to my left side and I continued our march, swerving and swiveling behind the Qunari to take any bandit that he missed on his blindside, a few more died to that maneuver. A horn blew from somewhere distant in the fortress and the Qunari set a growl to his teeth. My hand came back up to his side and gripped him to keep him with me.

"Stay with me," I ordered, my fingers biting into his slick skin, "I'll let you loose soon enough, I promise." A rumbling, echoing chuckle vibrated through my fingers and I let go to let him push forward. The second courtyard held a good portion of supplies, scattered all out over the grounds. There were archers up on the next landing, but Skinner had reached them and if the screams were anything to go by, she was in full terrorizing mode.

Grim was at the center landing of the courtyard, dancing around lumber and crates to deal with a fully armored warrior with another tower shield. With a brief double tap of my palm, Bull shot from my side and met the game head on, covering Grim as a blow had winded him down to one knee. With the guard distracted, I raced up the stairway toward Skinner. More screams came from behind us, but a quick glance let me see Dalish and Dorian come through with ice crawling up the stonewalls and a shambling mabari guarding Dorian's heels.

"Shit!" Skinner cursed into the rain. I was halfway up the stairs before I could see what she turned foul about; a bandit had slipped past her and beelined it for me. His helmet was low and bore no shield that I could see. My grip tightened on my maul and only steps he was from me before I swung my maul from the ground up. The bandit ducked to the right, his helmet catching just the edge of my weapon, but I could now see his.

_Daggers! Rogue — shit, fuck — dodge!_

My knees buckled instinctively when the rogue turned on their heel to dive for me, daggers at the ready. My weight hit the ground and I threw myself down to the left, rolling with my maul held out to avoid hitting myself. The daggers clanged with each other overhead. My heel caught stone and my opposite knee turned up to brace me into a kneel. The rogue turned around with an underhanded grip on a dagger. Without a second thought, I swung my maul out along the ground and caught the bandit's ankle, then yanked my maul toward me to trip them.

Skinner flew up from behind me, taking advantage of the other's surprise and went for his throat. She landed with a wet thud on his chest, her daggers shoved into his neck and lung. The bandit struggled for a moment, only to choke as Skinner flicked her wrists and snapped his neck. It was over in seconds.

Neither she nor I waited for the other, we were on our feet and charging over the landing to get to the next area.

"Skinner, shadow!" Bull yelled from down below. Grim was being hauled to his feet from under a pile of wood, Bull's face was smothered in blood. The elf pulled out from the lead and instead shifted and swam through the rain to come around me and shadow at my non-dominant side, her daggers glinting in the downpour.  _Ah, that's what he meant — clever._

I shot through the door like a madwoman with the head of my maul used like a battering ram. Skinner and I flew inside, unaware of whatever was on the other side of the door. The small room numbed us to the sound of the rain before we ducked through the next door. The third level bloomed out and stretched toward the towering walls that climbed up into higher levels. Archways patterned the opposite end and from within we could hear voices howling through the rain.

" _Cut them off! Keep moving!_ "

Skinner hissed at my heels, annoyance rolling off her in waves.

"Skinner, fetch the strays. Leave anything bigger than you to us —  _go!_ " I ordered her. With the speed of a fired bullet she zipped away from me and dove into the archways, the shadows obscuring her form just enough to catch a few of them in surprise. I searched through the rain for another way in and up toward the tower.  _I can't trust there isn't something bigger up there, I need reinforcements._ A few hollow screams rattled through the rain, and then silence.

Bull and Grim ran through the door, slowing to a stop near me when I was spotted. Bull's gaze flashed over me, assessing damages, before he snorted steam from his nose and looked for Skinner. The elf appeared in the darkness, snaking up to us and planting herself at Bull's side, her voice quick and quiet through the rainfall.

"I've killed the scouts, but there is another up at the last level." She reported, her gaze focused on Bull. "He is no shem — Avvar, perhaps. Large, armored. I saw a warhammer." Clattering footsteps came up from the entry into the level with Krem leading the helm. Dorian and Dalish were just behind him and they marched over to us.

"All secured down below, Your Worship." Krem saluted me. "We've got soldiers posted at the doors and through the cellar, with Blackwall to command them."

"Good. Dalish, if you could?" I tilted my head at her. She smiled and with a tap of her staff, another barrier kissed over our heads and blanketed us. Dorian came along to my right side and inspected me, his hand reached out and rested at the back of my neck. A shiver of a minor healing spell warmed my skin.

"Thanks." I murmured, rolling my neck. I glanced between him and Bull. "If you wouldn't mind?" Bull narrowed his only eye at Dorian, but held his hand out. Dorian made no jest and reached out to shake the Qunari's hand and the spell blossomed up Bull's arm a second later. The blood dripping from his brow stopped, the rain washing away the rest.

"Plan?" Bull turned to me, letting go of Dorian's hand. I had quite the collection of people; mages in the form of Dalish and Dorian. Hitters like Grim, Krem, and Bull. Skinner had done her duty beautifully. My attention shifted to her. She stilled and narrowed her eyes at me.

"I need you to run, Skinner. Get word to Harding, tell them to start heading this way." I waited as she brought her gaze to Bull. He reached out and tapped her shoulder, sending her off with a tick of his head. In a blink she was gone and I waited with my group, my eyes peering through the rain and darkness.  _We need to end this fast if they have an Avvar with them._

"We have a few scraps left, and the big dog. Grim, Krem, keep the strays off my back." I nodded to them, waiting for the accepting salute. To Dalish and Dorian, I said: "Fence in the area, focus the fight to Bull and me, okay?"

"You'll be alright?" Dorian asked with a concerned frown. "We can bring in Blackwall from the lower level. The soldiers don't need him anymore."

I shook my head. "We don't have time for that, it'll let them prepare and booby-trap the area."

"She can handle it." Bull rolled his shoulders. "We need to get moving before we lose momentum."

"Agreed." I answered and shouldered my maul. Krem and Grim nodded, then with measured steps they made their way through the arches and up toward the last and highest level. Dalish and Dorian followed behind them with the grace of dancers, to leave Bull and me bringing up the rear with lumbering steps. Bull eyed me from my left and my skin prickled with the attention.

"Something the matter?" I asked him, shaking the water off my head and shoulders with a quick jerk of my head.

He shook his head lightly. "No. You're holding up well, Boss. Good to fight next to you."  _And now just like that, all those emotions I had repressed come rushing back. I hate you so much, you asshole._ Heat sparked at the back of my neck and flashed into my hair, my ears felt like they were curling from the sensation. I bit the inside of my cheeks and kept my pace steady.

"Same to you, Bull. Shall we?" I asked lightly, clearing my throat. Silently, we pulled up as Krem and Grim took up either side of the entry into the last level. It was roofless, with bars on the arches that acted as windows all along the left side, leading out toward the flagpole base at the far end from us. The ledge on the right was steep with a low stone wall as the only barrier to keep one from falling. My group waited for my signal, and with a sharp jerk of my flat hand, we were off to the races.

There were three that remained to guard. Out by the ruined tower that housed the flag I could see the massive form of their warrior. Our attention focused on the smallest group with Grim and Krem rocketing from their hiding spots and diverging each to a separate fighter. Dalish swung her staff low to the ground and ice sprang up high enough to keep the exits covered. Dorian took the few that Skinner had killed before hand and brought them back into the fight, their lungs moaning from the effort.

Bull and I shot past it all toward the warrior and even in the darkness of the rain, I could see the horned helmet I had once seen on Morvan the Under.  _Fucking shit, are we dealing with a clan?!_  Bull had reached the stairs before I had and when he did, two spiked armor shields came up from the ground.  _Fuckers were hiding in wait for us!_  I reached out and barely managed to capture Bull's strap to his shoulder armor and jerked him back.

Surprise lit the Qunari's face at my vicious pull, since I had actually caused him to stumble.

"Boss?" He blinked between me and the approaching group, their steps steady to keep the towers close together as a barrier. I shook my head and dragged Bull back.  _Thinkthinkthink_ —  _it's too narrow, they'll shove us off, they'll pin us!_  Bull could see it now, too, there was no railing or stone guard to keep us from tumbling off the ledge of the steps.

"I got an idea," I glanced back at where the others held the fight, the three remaining highwaymen putting up a harder resistance than most. I swallowed and gripped my left hand into a fist over the strap.  _Fucking hell, Solas is going to be so pissed, but we can't get caught like this!_ With a horrendous heave, I hauled Bull back toward me and turned on a heel to slam him up against the wall, the Qunari's eye going wide in shock.

"Don't move!" I ordered him, but it was lost in a cascade of thunder. The Avvar was on us, steps away as he raised his maul. Bull took no heed of my orders and was rearing his weapon back to meet the blow, my name falling from his lips.

My left hand released him, scraping along the wall as I hastily pivoted on my heel to greet the Avvar face to face. The Mark glittered under my glove before it ripped the fabric into my scarred palm, the light of the Fade growing. It gave me precious seconds as the Avvar and his guards hesitated at the sight.

It was just enough.

With a swing I brought my hand up and saw through the glow of light the thin wisp of the Veil, just as I had seen it in that cave all those weeks ago. My fingers passed through it and a searing white noise clattered into my palm. My grip snagged the wisps and with all the strength I had used to manhandle my Qunari, I  _yanked_.

_Consume!_ I commanded wildly.

The Mark lit like a firework, sputtering for a moment before a second later the Veil was wrenched open with a deafening scream. A shockwave of power and essence from the other side burst outward and knocked me back against Bull, the Qunari's arms coming to wrap around my waist before he turned us so I was pressed and protected against the wall. My vision was obscured by his arm and shoulder, but the Mark pulsed with each burst of energy from the rip I had created.

I could see the feet of the Avvar and the bottom of the tower shields slowly fade into particles of nothing, streams of ghostly essence that were caught up in the hunger of the Fade. There was no concept of how long it was, Bull's chest was my barrier against the chaos, screams that echoed through the rain before the Veil forced itself closed with a violent  _swoosh_. A jolting pain, a sensation of gnarled ice ricocheted up through the Mark and into my arm.

The Mark pulsed in time with my heart for just a moment before it went pale in my palm. My ears were ringing, I could hear Bull and Krem calling for me, deep against the thunderous tide in my skull. My eyes shut and my hands came up to hold my ears.  _Stop,_ I wanted to say, but my lips were glued shut. The voices turned heated, arguing, and though I couldn't tell who was arguing with who, I didn't want them to continue. My right hand fell from my ear and I reached for the first closest thing.

My hand fell to Bull's chest and the Qunari's ribs shuddered under my touch, but his hand came down over mine and held it. There was a beat of silence and then swiftly I was lifted, my legs level with my hips as Bull's arms shifted from protective barrier to cradle. My head was tucked against his neck and chest and my skull pounded with each step he took. It was everything I could do to focus, to keep my thoughts quiet so I wouldn't burst at the seams from madness.

_We are going to do that never again, Jaime Wyatt._ I hissed between my ears, my eyes shut tightly.  _That has got to be one of the stupidest things you've_ _ **ever**_ _done._

The rain had stopped at some point, there was a jolt, a jostle, and a brief fall with skin and armor scraping against wet stone. Small beacons of light grew past my eyelids, but my eyes refused to open. My heart thundered in my chest hundreds of miles a minute. Both of my knees were bent over someone's leg, one arm wrapped around my back with the person's second knee pressed against my spine.  _Someone's got you tucked into their lap,_ my hazy mind supplied. A large hand came to rest on my diaphragm.

_It's Bull,_ my brain figured out with delirious amusement.

"Easy," Bull's voice echoed in between my ears, "deep breaths, Boss. C'mon, deep breaths."

_I'm trying,_ I wanted to say, but I had no sense of control over my body. My throat refused my voice and my lungs protested the lack of oxygen, despite the fact that I was most likely hyperventilating right this second. There was no pain in my arm anymore as there previously had been when I used the Mark, but I felt this repercussion was far,  _far_ worse.

"What in blue blazes  _happened_?" Dorian's voice warbled somewhere just out of my range. The shout had me instinctively curling and Bull's arms tightened around me.

"Hold off on the questions, Vint." Bull growled over my head, his voice rumbling through his chest into my left ear pressed against it. "Let me get this under control first — Krem! Get them out of here, get me Stitches!"

"Here," Dalish's voice dripped like the rain, "I know what that was. She's overwhelmed."

"I know  _that_ , Dalish." Bull groused, his arms tightening around me. The tips of Dalish's fingers brushed my face and neck as she tried to shuck me from Bull's hold.

"Chief, please." Dalish was in no rush, she waited a polite few seconds and chuckled when Bull's arms gently released me. A hand came over my closed eyes, Dalish's palm was unnaturally cool and her words were warm against my ears. A breath of cold spread across my skin and forehead, easing down into my neck and shoulders, it coiled my tension only in the briefest of moments before it released it.

I sighed, the sensation was heavenly and I melted against Bull's chest.

"There." Dalish took her hands away. My gaze was static as I blinked my eyes open. "The energies of the Fade can be a lot to handle. She should be fine now."

"Thank you, Dalish." Bull sighed, relieved. He shifted me higher in his hold, closer to his chest. Not like there was any place for me to go. Any closer, I would be an organ transplant. "We'll have Stitches look over her anyway. Find Skinner, check the place for any stragglers."

"Aye, aye, Chief." Dalish stood and glanced me. I offered her the tiniest wave I could manage with the tips of my fingers. She smiled wonderfully for me and returned the gesture before leaving. My ears had returned to their duties, the world coming back into focus. The steady pace of Bull's heart was to my left ear, and the sound of rain to my right.

Bull's hand left my back and rested on my head. "... what am I going to do with you?"

"I'm awake." I hastily explained, not wanting to be caught in the awkward moments of a confession.  _Not that he would, but I've seen too many rom-coms to trust it._

"I know you are." He growled, his hand dropping from my head to the back of my neck. "What is  _wrong_  with you? What was that, Boss?" Any number of explanations came unbidden to my lips, but all of them were more frightening than the last.  _Who's going to trust someone that can just rip the Fade open at a moment's notice? Who's going to trust me not to kill them with a wave of my hand?_

Bull shifted so that his hand left my neck and the same arm wrapped over my shoulder, hugging me to his chest. The other arm had come around to rest across my hip, his legs moving gently to keep me warm and cradled. I peered up, but all I could see was the edge of his chin and length of his neck. A flush blossomed across my face and guilt chewed at my stomach. I wanted the comfort, desperately, but this felt like theft.

"I thought we told you not to use the Mark like that?" Bull scolded me softly, his throat bobbing against my temple. I swallowed with a shudder racing down my spine.  _I'm going to die here, from heatstroke, and I'm ashamed to think it would be the best day of my life._

"It was a shitstorm. We couldn't see, and they had shields." I defended weakly, because in retrospect, the whole plan I had to use the rift to give us space to retreat sounded like a fantastically  _idiotic_ idea. My eyes shut momentarily, praying gratefully that Solas would only  _hear_  of the stupidity and not see it first-hand.

"Boss. That's setting off an explosive to deal with a stuck window." Bull chuckled, the hand at the small of my back patted me lightly.

"I didn't say it was a smart plan. Just a plan." I grumbled, the wavering in my voice masked by it.  _I can't handle this. We're just_ —  _friends? Co-workers? Boss and employee? Fuck if he's like this with me, I can't imagine what_ —  _nope._

I let the thought fall away. Now was not the time to deal with a fangirling heart.

"I think I'm okay now." I muttered against his chest and then wiggled to shake free of his arms. They fell away easily and the cold touch of rain-cooled air graced my face and soggy hair. A shiver quaked my body and I was violently against it.  _Fuuuuuck that shit._

"Never mind." I argued, reaching for his arms and tucking myself back in.

His echoing laugh was enough to soothe my rattled nerves.


End file.
